LINCOLN  ROOM 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 


the  Class  of  1901 

founded  by 

HARLAN  HOYT  HORNER 

and 
HENRIETTA  CALHOUN  HORNER 


Reminiscences 

of 

A  War-Time  Statesman 
and  Diplomat 

1830—1915 


By 
Frederick  W.  Seward 

Assistant  Secretary  of  State  during  the  Administrations  of 
Lincoln,  Johnson,  and  Hayes 


Illustrated 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and   London 
Imicfcerbocfeet    press 
1916 


COPYRIGHT.  1916 

BY 
ANNA    M.  SEWARD 


Ube  fmfcfcerbocfter  presa,  "Hew  )!Jorf? 


L 


PREFACE 

My  long  life  is  drawing  toward  its  close.  The  portions 
of  it  that  will  have  interest  for  those  who  are  to  come 
after  me,  I  suppose  are  chiefly  those  which  illustrate  the 
character  of  the  times  and  the  characteristics  of  the 
persons  concerned  in  them.  So  I  set  down  my  recollec- 
tions of  some  of  them  here.  Some  of  them  have  already 
been  narrated  in  my  Life  and  Letters  of  William  H.  Seward. 

F.  W.  S. 

MONTROSE-ON-HUDSON 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 
BEFORE  THE  WAR 

PAGE 

FIRST  RECOLLECTIONS        ......         i 

HOTEL  LIFE  IN  ALBANY     ......        2 

CHRISTMAS       ........        3 

MY  GREAT- GRANDMOTHER          .....        3 

A  CARRIAGE  JOURNEY        ......        9 

FIRST  VISIT  TO  WASHINGTON    .         .         .         .         .17 

"COLONEL  JOHN"     .......       19 

THE  PANIC  OF  1837 — SHINPLASTERS  .         .         .         .21 

"HENRY  CLAY  AT  AUBURN"     .....      22 

THE  GOVERNOR'S  MANSION       .....      23 

NEW  YEAR'S  DAY  IN  ALBANY  ....       28 

A  POLITICAL  CARICATURE          .....      30 

THE  PEARL  STREET  ACADEMY  .         .         .         .         .31 

EARLY  RAILROAD  EXPERIENCES          ....      34 

EARLY  THEATRICAL  MEMORIES  ....       36 

APPLICANTS  FOR  PARDONS          .         .         .         .         .38 

THE  "MORUS  MULTICAULIS"  FEVER  ....      42 

THE  HARRISON  CAMPAIGN  OF  1840    ....      44 


vi  Contents 

PAGE 

THE  HELDERBERG  WAR 48 

AN  ARTISTIC  CONTEST 53 

JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  AT  AUBURN      ....  56 

ENTERING  COLLEGE         ;.         ......  58 

LEAVING  COLLEGE    .......  66 

WASHINGTON  IN  '49  AND  '50") 

v  .          .         .         .         .68 

THE  COMPROMISE  DEBATE     j 

THE  "EVENING  JOURNAL"  OFFICE    ....  84 

EDITORIAL  TOPICS    .......  90 

A  NEW  WORD.         .......  91 

A  THANKSGIVING  RELIC    ......  92 

ALBANY  LIFE  .         .                  .         .         .         .  ^      .  95 

AN  ALBANY  CONCERT       ......  96 

KOSSUTH  AT  ALBANY        ......  98 

THE  FUGITIVE  SLAVE  LAW        .         .         .         .         .105 

VAN  ZANDT  AND  "UNCLE  TOM'S  CABIN"            .         .  in 
A  VILLAGE  OF  Louis  XIV.'s  TIME    .         .         .         .'115 

ANTICOSTI         ........  120 

NAPOLEON  III.  AND  EUGENIE  AT  COMPIEGNE       .        .  128 

PART  II 
DURING  THE  WAR 

THE  BALTIMORE  PLOT       .         .         .         .         .         .134 

THE  OLD  STATE  DEPARTMENT  .         .         .         .139 

THE  MONTH  OF  SUSPENSE 145 


Contents  vii 


PAGE 


THE  CALL  TO  ARMS 150 

WASHINGTON  BELEAGUERED      .         .         .         .         .155 

THE  WAR  BEGUN     .         ...        .        .         .     157 

A  COLLEGE  CLASSMATE    .         .         .         .        .         .161 

GENERAL  SCOTT        .         .         .         .         .         .         .165 

GENERAL  SCOTT'S  STORIES         .         .         .         .         .169 

SAINT  CYR  CADETS  .         .         ...         .         .     171 

THE  CIRCULAR  DISPATCH  ON  THE  MILITARY  SITUATION  .     172 
UNDER  FIRE  FROM  A  FRENCH  FRIGATE       .         .         .173 
WHY  MARYLAND  DID  NOT  SECEDE     .         .         .         .175 

FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND  vs.  THE  UNITED  STATES    .         .     1 78 

AFTER  BULL  RUN 181 

THE  FRENCH  PRINCES       .         .         .         .         .         .181 

MOUNT  VERNON  IN  WAR  TIME          .         .         .         .185 

THE  "TRENT"  CASE 186 

A  SERIES  OF  VICTORIES    .         .         .         .         .         .     193 

A  CRUISE  BETWEEN  Two  ARMIES     .         .         .         .194 

A  SEASON  OF  REVERSES  AND  DEPRESSION          .         .204 
FARMERS'  BOYS  IN  BATTLE       .  206 

THE  MILITARY  SITUATION         .         .         .         .         .212 

OUR  FOREIGN  RELATIONS  IN  THE  WAR      .         .         .213 
A  MOORISH  EPISODE         .         .         .         .         .         .219 

SIGNING  THE  EMANCIPATION  PROCLAMATION  .  .  226 
A  VISIT  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC  .  .  .  228 
AN  EXCURSION  WITH  THE  DIPLOMATIC  CORPS  .  .  236 


viii  Contents 


PAGB 


CHANGING  THE  COMMANDING  GENERAL      .         .         .  238 

ALTERED  ASPECT  OF  THE  WAR          .  .         .  242 

WASHINGTON  DURING  EARLY'S  RAID  .         .         .  243 

THE  YEAR'S  RECORD         .         .         „         .         .         .  249 

THE  END  OF  THE  WAR 251 

LAST  MEETING  OF  LINCOLN  AND  SEWARD  .         .  253 

LINCOLN'S  LAST  CABINET  MEETING  ....  254 

ASSASSINATION  NIGHT       ......  258 

AFTER  THE  ASSASSINATION  262 


PART  III 

AFTER  THE  WAR 

OUR  WEST  INDIAN  CRUISE     AT  SEA  ....  263 

ST.  THOMAS    .         .         .283 
SANTA  CRUZ  .         .         .302 

SAN  DOMINGO         .         .  306 

HAYTI  .         .         .         .  315 

AT  HAVANA   .         .         .  328 

A  YEAR'S  INTERVAL 343 

A  DIPLOMATIC  VISIT  TO  SAN  DOMINGO      .         .         .  344 

THE  STORY  OF  ALASKA     ......  356 

THE  STORY  OF  ALASKA — THE  TREATY  OF  PURCHASE     .  360 

MY  FATHER'S  DIARY — AND  OTHERS            .         .         .  365 

ORIENTAL  INDEMNITY  FUNDS 368 


Contents  ix 


PAGE 


THE  JAPANESE  COMMISSIONERS.         .        .         .  .371 

CHINA'S  ENTRY  INTO  THE  FIELD  OF  DIPLOMACY  .     375 

THE  PORTRAIT  GALLERY    .         .         .         .         .  .381 

THE  "GREAT  TYEE"  IN  ALASKA       .         .         .  .     383 

THE  GUEST  OF  A  NATION         .         .         .         .  .     390 

NAPOLEON  III.  AND  HIS  MINISTERS 


420 
A  TALK  WITH  M.  DROUYN  DE  L'HUYS 

RETIREMENT  TO  THE  COUNTRY           ....  429 

LEGISLATIVE  LIFE     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  429 

A  PUZZLED  POTENTATE 431 

THE  VICE-PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY      .         .  432 

THE  RECOGNITION  OF  PORFIRIO  DIAZ        .         .         .  435 

THE  STORY  OF  SAMOA       ......  437 

A  NIGHT  MOVE  AGAINST  A  MOB       .         .         .         .  441 

THE  OUTCOME  OF  A  FUGITIVE  SLAVE  CASE        .         .  445 

COUNTRY  LIFE          .......  447 

PRESIDENT  ARTHUR  AND  THE  YORKTOWN  CENTENNIAL  447 

TAXATION  IN  NEW  YORK 453 

ALASKA  REVISITED    .......  455 

"       THE  INLAND  PASSAGE            ....  455 

"       OUR  PASSENGERS          .....  456 

"       WRANGEL 456 

SITKA  .         .  .         .         .         .         .457 

"       GLACIERS     .         .                  .         .         .         .  460 


x  Contents 

PAGE 

ALASKA,  THE  TREDWELL  MINE          ....  460 

"        JUNEAU      .         .         .         .         .         .  461 

"         SKAGWAY    .         .         .         .         .         .         .  461 

"         THE  WHITE  PASS  RAILROAD        .         .         .  462 

THE  ALASKA  BOUNDARY  DISPUTE      .         .                  .  463 

HUDSON  CENTENNIAL  CELEBRATIONS          .         .         .  469 
EPILOGUE — HISTORY  AND  MEMORY    .         .         .         .471 

INDEX 473 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD    ....     Frontispiece 

WILLIAM  H.  SEWARD        ......         2 

FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD,  AS  HE  LOOKED  IN  1866       .     342 
SIGNING  THE  TREATY  FOR  THE  PURCHASE  OF  ALASKA     .     360 

From  the  painting  by  Leutze 

FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD'S  RESIDENCE  AT  MONTROSE- 

ON-THE-HUDSON   .  .  .  .  .  .  .       446 

VIEW  FROM  FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD'S  RESIDENCE  ON 
THE  HUDSON  RIVER     ......     454 


Reminiscences 

of 

A  War-Time  Statesman  and  Diplomat 


Reminiscences 

of  a 

War-Time    Statesman 
And    Diplomat 


PART  I 

Before  tHe  "War 

1833- 

First  Recollections.  Here  is  the  first  scene  of  which  I 
have  any  vivid  and  connected  remembrance. 

My  brother  and  I,  sleeping  together  in  the  trundle  bed, 
are  suddenly  awakened  at  night,  and  find  the  candles  all 
lighted.  My  father  is  kindling  a  fire  in  the  small  box  stove. 
Then  my  mother  takes  me  up  to  be  dressed.  From  the 
talk  between  her  and  the  nurse,  I  learn  that  we  are  about 
to  start  on  a  journey,  and  that  it  is  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Peering  out  of  the  window  I  see  that  it  all 
looks  dark,  except  that  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow. 
At  the  gate  are  two  bright  lanterns,  and  horses  are  stamp- 
ing in  the  snow.  This,  I  am  told,  means  that  the  sleigh- 
stage  is  there,  in  which  we  are  to  travel.  The  whole 
scene  is  novel  and  exhilarating,  but  suddenly  changes, 
when  we  get  inside  of  the  dark,  cold  stage,  groping  for 
seats  among  the  buffalo  skins.  The  curtains  are  fastened 


2  Hotel  Life  in  Albany 

down,  the  windows  closed.  Shuffling  of  feet  and  subdued 
voices  are  heard,  from  which  I  know  there  are  other  pas- 
sengers, but  can  see  nothing.  The  stage  starts  and  goes 
sliding  and  bumping  over  the  rough  road.  Wrapped  up 
and  in  my  mother's  lap,  I  soon  fall  into  a  doze,  and  after 
a  series  of  naps,  wake  up  again  in  daylight,  to  be  told  that 
we  have  come  twenty-six  miles  to  Syracuse. 

Two  or  three  dreary,  weary  days  and  nights  in  the 
stage  now  follow,  varied  only  by  stopping  to  change 
horses,  to  get  meals  and  occasional  hours  of  sleep.  This 
is  the  method  of  journeying  from  Auburn  to  Albany,  in 
the  year  1833. 

January,  1834. 

Hotel  Life  in  Albany.  Now  we  are  living  in  a  hotel  at 
Albany.  It  is  called  "Bement's. "  In  front  of  it  is  a 
broad,  smooth,  sloping  road,  covered  with  ice  and  snow. 
This,  I  am  told,  is  "State  Street."  The  sun  is  shining 
through  our  frosty  windows.  Sleigh  bells  are  jingling 
and  people  are  walking  briskly  up  and  down  the  hill. 
Everything  looks  bright  and  cheerful.  Indoors,  our 
rooms  are  light  and  warm.  There  is  a  fire  in  the  grate. 
There  are  toys  and  pictures,  and  other  children  to  play 
with.  There  are  nuts  and  raisins  and  various  sweet 
things  at  dinner.  There  is  plenty  of  light  and  plenty  of 
noise.  On  the  whole,  I  like  hotel  life  very  much. 

Many  visitors  come  in,  all  polite  to  my  mother,  and 
some  very  kindly  to  me.  There  are  three  whose  visits 
are  frequent.  These  are  my  "Uncle  Gary,"  my  "Uncle 
Tracy,"  and  "Uncle  Weed."  I  am  fond  of  all  of  them, 
especially  the  latter.  He  is  a  tall,  dark-haired  man,  with 
a  very  gentle  voice,  who  takes  long  and  vigorous  strides 
as  he  walks  up  the  street.  They  are  not  my  "real" 
uncles — not  my  father's  brothers — but  his  intimate  friends. 
They  often  go  with  him  up  the  hill,  to  the  large  building 


Christmas  3 

of  red  freestone,  with  a  white  cupola,  having  a  statue  on 
top.  The  statue  represents  "Justice,"  they  tell  me;  and 
that  is  the  Capitol,  where  my  father  goes  to  attend  to  his 
business  in  the  Senate. 

December,  1834. 

Christmas.  Christmas  morning  at  Auburn!  Every- 
thing is  gay  and  full  of  fun.  I  do  not  remember  much  of 
other  Christmases;  nevertheless  it  seems  to  me  a  long 
established  custom,  and  from  what  I  have  heard  about 
it,  I  am  expecting  a  joyous  day.  My  mother  says  we 
must  not  get  up  to  look  at  our  stockings  hanging  by  the 
fireplace,  until  each  has  counted,  in  French,  the  years  of 
his  age.  It  is  a  part  of  the  general  fun  to  discover  that 
my  age  is  equivalent  to  a  cat  (quatre),  and  that  my 
brother's  is  wheat  (huify.  Then,  a  mad  rush  for  the 
stockings,  which  of  course  are  loaded  with  toys  and  candy. 
There  is  a  red-coated  soldier  with  a  black  shako.  There 
is  a  dog  that  opens  his  mouth  and  barks  and  there  are 
other  marvels.  I  take  mine  down  to  show  to  my  grand- 
father. "Merry  Christmas,  Grandpa!"  "What!"  he 
says,  "is  this  Christmas?  Then  I  must  make  you  some- 
thing." He  picks  up  a  piece  of  wood,  and  by  deft  and 
skilful  use  of  his  jack-knife  has  presently  completed  a 
miniature  snow-shovel.  In  the  kitchen,  where  the  ser- 
vants and  children  are  congregated,  an  earnest  debate 
arises  over  the  question  whether  Santa  Claus  is  a  real 
person  or  not.  My  brother,  with  the  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence of  eight  years,  cuts  the  argument  short  by  saying, 
"Anyhow  there  is  somebody.  Things  can't  get  into  the 
stockings  just  of  themselves."  To  this  conclusion  we  all 
agree. 

My  Great-Grandmother.  She  is  sitting  by  the  window, 
not  far  from  the  blazing  woodfire  on  the  hearth.  Behind 


4  My  Great-Grandmother 

her  rocking  chair  is  the  high  corner  cupboard,  containing 
her  treasures,  into  which  we  are  not  allowed  to  pry.  She 
is  an  erect,  stately  little  body,  notwithstanding  her  eighty- 
four  years,  with  white  hair  and  neat  prim  lace  cap  and 
collar,  silk  neckerchief,  and  grey  dress.  Her  kind  old 
eyes  beam  through  gold-rimmed  spectacles  upon  the 
children,  for  whom  "Grandma's  Room"  is  always  a  fav- 
ourite resort. 

The  wood  fire  needs  frequent  replenishing,  and  so  at 
intervals,  Peter,  the  "hired  man,"  conies  in  with  an  armful. 
To  save  the  carpet,  there  is  a  little  pathway  of  rag  car- 
peting, running  from  door  to  chimney,  for  him  to  walk  on ; 
which  we  also  try  to  walk  on — when  we  don't  forget  it. 

We  are  telling  Grandma  that  it  is  bitter  cold  outside, 
and  that  our  fingers  are  "most  frozen"  in  our  mittens. 
The  snow  is  four  feet  deep,  and  when  I  am  in  the  shovelled 
path,  I  can  see  nothing  but  the  sky.  A  rooster  is  crowing 
somewhere  and  Peter,  who  is  tall  enough  to  see,  tells  me 
he  is  on  the  top  of  the  snow-drift.  Roads  are  gone  and 
fences  are  covered. 

Then  Grandma  tells  us  of  "the  hard  winter"  in  the 
time  of  the  Revolution,  when  cannon  were  dragged  across 
the  Hudson  River  on  the  ice.  She  has  plenty  of  stories, 
but  we  especially  like  to  hear  those  about  "the  War." 
We  are  always  ready  to  lay  aside  even  Puss  in  Boots  and 
Mother  Hubbard  with  their  beautiful  pictures,  to  draw 
our  stools  up  around  her  chair  and  listen, — for  Grandma's 
stories  are  "real"  ones. 

She  tells  us  that  when  she  was  a  girl,  her  name  was 
Paulina  Titus  until  she  grew  up  and  married  Josiah  Miller, 
who  soon  became  a  Captain  in  the  Continental  Army. 
She  tells  us  of  the  little  village  of  Bedford,  where  they  used 
to  live,  and  how  people  there  began  to  talk  of  "bad  times 
coming."  How  some  said  King  George  was  crazy,  and 
others  said  his  ministers  were  fools.  How  folks  saw  great 


My  Great-Grandmother  5 

displays  of  "Northern  lights"  with  flashes  of  blue  and  red, 
in  rows,  marching  toward  each  other,  like  armies  in  battle. 
Then,  how  ships  began  to  come  into  New  York  harbour 
loaded  with  soldiers  and  cannon.  How  there  were  ru- 
mors of  riots  and  prisoners  in  New  York.  How  the  farm- 
ers began  to  get  together  their  old  muskets  and  swords 
and  cartridge-boxes  and  powder-horns,  and  to  hide  them 
in  barns.  How  they  began  to  cast  bullets  in  their  kitchens 
out  of  odd  pieces  of  lead.  How  they  had  secret  meetings 
and  drills,  and  "committees  of  safety."  And,  at  last, 
how  riders  came  post  haste  down  the  Boston  Road,  with 
the  news  that  there  had  been  fighting  at  Lexington.  And 
so  began  the  long  years  of  battles  and  sieges  and  hardships. 

Then  she  tells  us  how  Bedford  awoke  to  the  discovery 
that  it  was  in  the  midst  of  "war's  alarms."  It  was  in  the 
"Neutral  Ground,"  which  neither  side  could  hold,- — so 
it  was  plundered  and  ravaged  by  both.  One  morning 
the  hen-roost  would  be  found  robbed  of  all  its  fowls. 
Another,  all  the  hams  and  beef  would  be  stolen  from  the 
smoke-house.  Then  the  corn  would  disappear  from  the 
crib,  and  the  cow  from  her  stable.  Occasionally  a  bullet 
from  some  unseen  gun  would  crash  through  a  window  pane. 
These  were  supposed  to  be  the  deeds  of  two  gangs  of 
marauders,  one  of  which  was  known  as  the  "Cowboys" 
and  the  other  as  the  "Skinners."  The  "Cowboys"  were 
said  to  be  in  sympathy  with  the  British,  and  the  "Skin- 
ners" with  the  Americans.  But  one  was  about  as  bad 
as  the  other.  More  to  be  feared  than  either,  were  the 
raids  of  "Tarleton's  Dragoons,"  and  "Delancey's  Horse," 
their  purpose  being,  not  merely  to  plunder,  but  to  burn 
and  kill. 

Most  thrilling  of  all  is  the  story  of  how  she  sat  by  the 
window  one  morning  and  saw  two  horsemen  galloping 
down  the  road.  As  they  passed  the  house,  one  shouted, 
"The  Regulars  are  coming!"  Then  they  went  on  over 


6  My  Great-Grandmother 

the  hill.  Presently  the  sound  of  firing  was  heard;  and 
soon  after  one  horse  came  galloping  back  with  the  saddle 
empty. 

Then  the  heads  of  an  advancing  column  appeared. 
One  glance  was  enough  to  perceive  that  they  were  the 
dreaded  dragoons  of  Colonel  Tarleton.  They  came 
slowly,  as  if  anticipating  resistance.  But  there  was  none. 
All  the  able-bodied  men  were  with  the  army.  Only  wo- 
men, children,  invalids,  and  a  few  negro  slaves  remained 
in  the  village.  The  troopers  halted  in  the  middle  of  the 
broad  street.  Then,  in  obedience  to  some  order  of  the 
commander,  several  of  them  dismounted  and  entered 
the  nearest  houses.  Seizing  the  burning  brands  from  the 
kitchen  fires,  they  scattered  them  about  the  rooms,  where 
they  would  set  things  in  a  blaze.  From  one  roof  after 
another,  smoke  began  to  pour  out,  and  flames  appeared 
at  the  windows.  The  inmates,  hastily  gathering  their 
children  and  such  clothing  as  they  could  lay  hands  on, 
fled  for  their  lives, — some  to  distant  friends,  some  to  the 
woods. 

As  the  conflagration  approached  her  home,  old  Mrs. 
Titus  (Paulina's  mother)  went  out  into  the  street,  and 
taking  hold  of  the  bridle  of  the  commanding  officer,  said 
something  to  him.  He  bent  down,  and  they  conversed 
in  low  tones.  Then,  raising  his  head,  and  pointing  toward 
Mrs.  Titus's  home,  he  gave  the  order:  "You  need  not 
burn  that  house."  What  was  said  can  only  be  conjec- 
tured, but  it  was  presumed  that  she  told  him  that  she  was 
a  loyal  subject  of  King  George.  Probably  she  did  not 
mention  that  her  son-in-law,  Captain  Miller,  was  just 
then  engaged  in  harassing  Tarleton's  flanks  and  rear. 
When  night  fell,  all  that  was  left  of  Bedford  was  one 
dwelling,  and  a  dozen  or  two  of  heaps  of  smoking 
ashes. 

"And  when  was  the  war  done  and  over,  Grandma?" 


My  Great-Grandmother  7 

ask  her  impatient  little  hearers.  The  old  lady  pauses  in 
her  knitting,  to  count  up.  "Four  years  later,"  she  says. 
Then  she  describes  how  the  British  marched  out  of  New 
York,  as  the  Americans  marched  in,  and  how  different 
the  two  armies  looked.  The  British,  with  their  neat 
uniforms,  scarlet  coats,  and  gleaming  muskets,  moving  at 
regulation  step,  through  silent  or  scowling  crowds.  The 
Americans,  swinging  cheerily  down  the  road,  with  every 
kind  of  shot-gun  and  rifle,  some  well  clad  and  some  in  rags 
and  tatters,  and  woefully  deficient  in  shoes.  Some  had 
their  feet  bound  up  in  bloody  rags  to  protect  them  from 
the  frosty  ground.  But  how  the  people  cheered,  and 
cried,  and  laughed,  and  wept,  as  they  saw  them  come 
marching  in!  Grandma  wipes  her  spectacles  now,  at  the 
remembrance  of  it. 

There  is  also  another  tale,  now  become  a  family  tradi- 
tion. But  like  other  family  traditions,  it  is  open  to  cavil 
or  doubt,  on  account  of  lacking  corroborating  evidence. 
So  far  as  I  recall  it,  the  substance  of  it  was  this. 

About  a  year  after  the  burning  of  Bedford,  Captain 
Josiah  Miller  came  home  one  day,  and  said:  "Paulina, 
you  can't  live  here  any  longer.  We  must  go  north  and 
get  inside  of  Putnam's  lines."  A  few  days  later  the  whole 
household,  with  such  effects  as  they  could  carry,  started 
on  horseback  toward  Fishkill. 

The  journey  was  long,  and  the  roads  were  bad.  When 
night  came  on,  they  had  only  reached  Crompond.  They 
bethought  themselves  of  a  cousin,  Andreas  Miller,  living 
there,  who  sometimes  "entertained  travellers." 

Andreas  met  them  at  the  door,  and  greeted  them  cor- 
dially, but  said:  "I  can't  give  you  very  good  accommoda- 
tion, for  I  have  two  travellers  staying  here,  already." 

When  they  went  in  to  supper,  the  two  travellers  were 
there.  One  looked  like  a  farmer,  in  a  rough  grey  coat; 
the  other  was  a  handsome  young  gentleman  in  dark  clothes, 


8  My  Great-Grandmother 

who  laid  aside  a  long  riding  cloak.  Both  were  taciturn, 
and  retired  early. 

The  next  morning  Andreas  said:  "The  other  travellers 
were  earlier  than  you.  They  have  started  already  for 
Pine  Bridge." 

The  Millers  duly  reached  their  destination  "inside  of 
Putnam's  lines."  A  few  days  later,  she  was  startled  by 
her  husband's  announcement : 

"Well,  Paulina,  that  handsome  young  man  you  met  at 
Crompond  turns  out  to  be  a  British  spy,  and  General 
Washington  is  going  to  hang  him!" 


Half  a  century  passes.  Sons  and  daughters  have  been 
born  to  the  Millers,  have  grown  up,  married,  and  scattered 
far  and  wide.  Captain  Josiah  is  sleeping  in  the  church- 
yard. His  widow,  Paulina,  is  now  a  great-grandmother, 
and  is  living  at  Auburn,  with  her  son,  Elijah.  He  is  a 
Judge,  and  is  my  grandfather.  To  us,  he  looks  almost  as 
old  as  his  mother.  We  often  hear  the  two  talking  over 
the  events  of  "the  War." 

"Yes,  Elijah,"  she  says,  General  Washington  was  a 
good  man — a  great  and  good  man — and  he  did  a  great  deal 
for  the  country.  But  I  never  liked  his  hanging  Major 
Andre." 

"But,  mother,  Andre"  was  a  spy.' 

"No,  Elijah,  Major  Andr6  did  not  mean  to  be  a  spy. 
It  was  that  wicked  traitor,  Arnold,  who  brought  him  into 
his  trouble.  If  Arnold  had  been  hung,  I  should  say  he 
richly  deserved  it." 

"But,  mother,  Washington  hadn't  got  Arnold,  and  he 
had  got  Andre.  He  tried  to  exchange  them,  but  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  wouldn't  do  it.  They  were  conspirators 
— and  such  conspirators  deserve  hanging.  They  generally 
get  it  too,  when  they  are  caught." 


A  Carriage  Journey  9 

"It  surely  was  a  conspiracy,  and  a  great  crime,  Elijah, 
• — but  I  have  never  approved  of  the  hanging  of  Major 
Andre." 

"Well,  mother,  if  he  hadn't  been  caught  and  hung,  I 
think  you  and  I  wouldn't  be  here  to-day,  to  talk  about 
him!" 

1835- 

A  Carriage  Journey.  "A  journey!  A  long  journey,  in 
a  carriage  with  my  father  and  mother.  Going  miles 
away  from  home,  seeing  new  places  and  meeting  strange 
people.  Won't  it  be  fun?"  So  I  say  to  myself  and  to 
my  companions. 

On  a  mild  May  morning,  the  journey  actually  begins. 
In  my  new  green  jacket  and  cap,  I  am  sitting  on  the  front 
seat  of  the  carriage,  by  the  side  of  William  Johnson,  the 
coloured  driver.  Before  us  are  two  stout  grey  horses 
one  of  whom  William  calls  "Lion,"  and  the  other  "the 
Doctor."  On  the  back  seat  are  my  father  and  mother. 
The  baggage  and  clothing  are  mysteriously  stowed  away 
beneath  the  seats  and  behind.  There  is  an  extension 
top,  to  put  up  when  it  rains,  a  fishing-rod  to  catch  moun- 
tain trout,  a  pail  to  water  the  horses,  and  a  tin  drinking 
cup  for  use  at  wayside  streams. 

The  greys  trot  off  briskly,  as  if  they  liked  the  prospect 
of  travel.  Soon  we  are  climbing  and  descending  hills 
on  the  way  to  Cayuga  Lake.  The  first  two  or  three  days 
are  over  roads  we  have  known  about.  We  stop  to  visit 
cousins,  uncles,  aunts,  and  old  friends,  at  Seneca  Falls, 
Aurora,  and  Ludlowville.  Then  we  strike  off  into  regions 
heretofore  unknown.  We  follow  the  banks  of  the  Cayuga 
Creek  down  to  the  valley  of  the  Susquehanna. 

Now  we  are  in  the  Pennsylvania  mountains,  following 
the  valleys  of  the  Lycoming  and  the  Susquehanna.  The 
rugged  and  narrow  roads  wind  along  the  mountainsides, 


io  A  Carriage  Journey 

crossing  wild  gorges,  over  dangerous  looking  bridges. 
There  are  rocky  cliffs  stretching  far  up  on  one  side,  while 
deep  abysses  open  on  the  other.  There  is  apparently 
impenetrable  forest  in  each  direction,  and  we  seem  to  be 
out  of  sight  of  civilization. 

We  spend  the  nights  in  such  rustic  taverns  as  the  region 
affords.  In  the  morning  William  recounts  to  us  such 
tales  as  he  has  heard  overnight,  about  wolves  and  robbers 
and  rattlesnakes.  Of  robbers  and  snakes  we  see  none, 
but  we  hear  the  wolves  howling  high  up  in  the  mountain 
forest.  When  I  inquire  as  to  the  possibility  of  their  com- 
ing down,  I  am  reassured  by  the  reply  that  they  are  prob- 
ably chasing  the  deer,  and  are  not  looking  for  little  boys. 

We  lunch  under  shady  trees,  gather  wild  flowers,  and 
fish  for  trout.  Rhododendrons,  scarlet  and  crimson,  dot 
the  valley  and  mountain.  My  father  and  mother  talk 
to  each  other  about  the  "scenery."  The  term  is  a  vague 
one  to  me,  but  I  understand  it  to  refer  to  the  mountains, 
hills,  woods,  and  waters  that  they  evidently  admire.  For 
my  own  part,  I  think  I  prefer  the  roads  near  the  villages, 
where  the  children  are  playing,  and  the  dogs  run  out  to 
bark,  and  the  chickens  scurry  across  the  roadway,  and 
people  come  along  in  farm  wagons  loaded  with  wood,  or 
hay  or  produce.  Sometimes  a  young  colt  will  be  accom- 
panying the  farmer's  team;  and  I  am  in  great  hopes  that 
we  can  persuade  one  to  change  his  mind  and  follow  us. 

Most  of  the  men  we  meet  nod  their  heads,  and  some 
say,  "Good-morning,"  as  we  pass.  I  ask  my  father  if 
they  are  all  acquaintances  of  his.  He  says,  no,  but  that 
it  is  the  custom  of  the  country  to  exchange  salutations  in 
passing,  and  a  very  good  custom  it  is.  My  mother  adds 
that  travellers  should  be  pleasant  to  those  they  meet,  if 
they  want  others  to  be  pleasant  to  them, — a  maxim  that 
I  think  I  will  treasure  up  for  future  use. 

Names  of  places  do  not  mean  much  to  persons  of  my 


A  Carriage  Journey  n 

age,  but  a  few  of  those  of  the  largest  towns  stick  in  my 
memory — Athens,  Towanda,  Williamsport,  Milton,  and 
finally  Harrisburg,  the  State  capital. 

Next  we  are  traversing  a  less  mountainous  and  more 
thickly  settled  region.  The  roads  are  broader  and  more 
level.  There  are  cultivated  farms,  large  barns,  fields  of 
grain,  herds  of  cattle  and  sheep.  There  are  towns  with 
hotels  and  mills  and  shops.  There  are  many  more  coloured 
people  both  in  town  and  country. 

Every  day  we  meet  more  and  more  of  summer.  Red 
cherries  and  ripe  strawberries  abound,  and  melons  are 
ripening  in  the  sun.  So  we  pass  on  through  southern 
Pennsylvania  and  northern  Maryland,  pausing  a  day  or 
a  night  at  Carlisle,  Chambersburg,  Hagerstown,  Boones- 
borough,  Shepherdstown,  and  Harpers  Ferry. 

Even  a  small  boy  could  appreciate  and  remember  the 
magnificent  panorama  of  scenery  at  Harpers  Ferry — 
the  towering  hills  and  meeting  valleys,  that  mark  the 
junction  of  the  Shenandoah  with  the  Potomac. 

As  we  enter  the  "Old  Dominion"  and  pursue  our  way 
through  the  "Valley  of  Virginia,"  my  father  tells  us  of 
the  historic  events  that  occurred  in  the  region  we  are 
traversing,  of  Washington's  early  campaigns,  of  Braddock's 
defeat,  and  of  the  battles  and  skirmishes  of  the  "French 
and  Indian  War."  That  was  a  long  while  ago.  It  all 
belongs  to  the  past.  If  any  prophet  should  arise  to  tell  us 
that  even  in  our  own  lif  etime,  we  shall  again  see  this  peace- 
ful region  become  the  scene  of  war,  and  of  advancing  and 
retreating  armies  and  bloody  battles,  we  certainly  should 
not  believe  him. 

"You  will  not  find  towns  and  hotels  in  the  Valley  like 
those  in  your  own  State."  So  our  friends  at  Harrisburg 
had  warned  us.  Certainly  travel  here  is  very  different. 
The  roads  are  muddy  and  stony,  the  fields  neglected  and 
overgrown  with  weeds.  Thickets  abound  on  either  side 


12  A  Carriage  Journey 

of  us.  We  meet  few  carriages  or  wagons,  and  only  occa- 
sionally travellers  on  horseback.  Dwellings  are  seldom 
in  sight.  The  planters'  houses  stand  back  from  the  road, 
and  the  negro  cabins  huddle  near  them. 

Such  a  day's  ride  might  lead  us  to  expect  that  our  night's 
lodging  would  be  in  some  dilapidated  old  town  or  noisy 
tavern.  But  nothing  of  the  sort  is  before  us.  We  drive 
up  an  avenue  of  spreading  trees.  The  carriage  stops  at 
the  door  of  a  large,  low,  comfortable  looking  house,  with 
wide  porches  or  veranda,  covered  with  vines.  Evidently 
it  is  the  house  of  a  gentleman.  The  owner  meets  us  at 
the  door  with  hospitable  greeting,  directs  his  servants  to 
take  charge  of  our  horses,  and  ushers  us  into  the  parlour, 
where  his  family  give  us  an  equally  cordial  welcome. 
They  are  well  dressed,  well  bred,  and  not  at  all  inquisitive, 
though  ready  to  hear  the  latest  news  and  talk  on  the  topics 
of  the  day.  The  table  is  loaded  with  the  luxuries  of  the 
season.  Our  bedrooms  are  neat  and  comfortable,  and 
there  is  an  abundance  of  black  servants,  patient,  gentle, 
and  polite.  In  a  word,  it  is  a  typical  planter's  home. 

If  there  is  at  times  a  lack  of  neatness  or  dispatch,  we 
should  hardly  observe  it,  if  we  did  not  sometimes  hear 
the  master  or  mistress  speak  of  one  of  our  smiling  attend- 
ants as  a  "lazy,  no  account, "  or  "trifling  nigger."  When 
we  take  our  departure,  it  seems  as  if  we  were  parting  from 
old  acquaintances,  and  the  pressing  invitations  to  come 
again  are  evidently  sincere.  Our  host  asks  no  compen- 
sation, but  will  sometimes  accept  it,  in  a  way  that  seems 
to  imply  that  he  does  so  to  please  us,  as  much  as  himself. 

My  mother  remarks  that  she  has  often  been  told  that 
she  could  not  travel  in  Virginia  with  any  pleasure,  because 
the  taverns  were  so  poor.  But  she  finds  it  just  the  reverse. 
Not  only  are  the  planters  so  hospitable,  but  even  the  few 
little  taverns  we  meet  are  neat  and  quiet,  without  noise 
or  bustle  or  dram-drinking, — and  one  is  not  annoyed  with 


A  Carriage  Journey  13 

the  crowd  of  lounging  topers  so  frequent  at  the  country 
taverns  of  New  York. 

My  father  replies  that  the  Virginians  have  had  the  re- 
putation for  a  hundred  years  of  being  a  frank,  hospitable, 
vigorous  people,  justly  proud  of  their  State  as  the  "  Mother 
of  Presidents."  But,  he  adds,  Virginia  is  now  deteriorat- 
ing, materially  as  well  as  politically,  since  she  became  the 
breeder  of  slaves  for  the  Southern  and  Western  markets. 
And  the  worst  is  that  the  people  are  unconscious  of  the 
cause  of  the  decay,  and  in  a  great  degree  ignorant  that 
other  parts  of  the  country  enjoy  greater  prosperity. 

Much  of  this  talk  is  beyond  my  comprehension  until 
recalled  by  later  events.  I  think  I  am  the  one  who  enjoys 
the  journey  most.  When  we  come  to  what  William  calls 
an  "ole  Virginny  bridge,"  I  like  to  see  "Lion"  and  the 
"Doctor"  plunge  into  the  clear  stream,  and  to  watch  the 
water  coming  up  to  the  hubs  of  the  wheels.  That  we  are 
travelling  chiefly  in  the  woods  is  no  hardship,  since  there 
are  so  many  shady  trees,  wild  flowers,  birds,  colts,  and 
chipmunks.  Then  there  is  always  the  prospect  of  coming 
across  another  "cake  and  beer"  shop  by  the  roadside. 
The  beer  I  do  not  care  for,  but  the  cake  (usually  fresh 
gingerbread)  is  always  welcome. 

The  humble,  submissive  black  race  that  we  meet  every- 
where seem  so  loyal  to  the  white,  that  it  is  a  surprise  to 
find  that  apprehensions  of  harm  from  them  are  enter- 
tained. William,  our  coachman,  comes  to  say  that 
he  is  stopped  in  the  road,  whenever  he  goes  out  after 
sundown. 

"But  you  are  a  free  man,  William?" 

"I  told  them  so,  but  they  say  it  don't  make  any  differ- 
ence,— that  I  have  got  to  have  a  pass." 

So  it  proves.  There  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  general  un- 
derstanding, that  no  coloured  man  is  allowed  to  be  out 
after  dark,  without  a  written  permit  from  some  white  man, 


14  A  C  arriage  Journey 

presumably  his  employer,  and  that  anybody  may  stop  him 
and  demand  to  see  it. 


Arriving  in  the  afternoon  at  a  large  plantation,  I  stray 
out  of  the  parlour  to  a  sort  of  gallery  or  shed,  adjoining  the 
house.  There  I  find  a  group  of  twenty  or  more  little 
"darkies,"  playing  and  chattering  like  so  many  monkeys. 
Some  are  older  than  I  am,  some  younger.  All  have  only 
very  scanty  clothing  and  some  none  at  all.  They  stop 
their  play,  and  surround  me,  though  at  a  little  distance 
away.  Yet  I  instinctively  perceive  that  their  looks  imply 
no  dislike  or  fear,  but  rather  pleasure  and  admiration. 

Somewhat  abashed  by  the  circle  of  bright  eyes  and 
gleaming  teeth,  I  turn  to  stroke  the  back  of  the  old  cat, 
reposing  on  the  gallery  rail, — saying  "Poor  Pussy — poor 
Pussy!"  Instantly,  there  is  an  outburst  of  joyous  laugh- 
ter from  the  whole  group,  as  if  I  had  made  the  finest  jest 
in  the  world.  "LiT  mas'r  say  'po'  Puss!'"  they  repeat. 
Then  one  by  one  they  timidly  advance  to  stroke  the  cat, 
in  imitation  of  me,  until  she  jumps  down  and  runs  away. 
Then  very  gently  and  wonderingly,  they  touch  my  bright 
buttons  and  lace  collar,  evidently  regarding  them  as  some- 
thing very  fine.  My  childish  vanity  is  awakened,  by 
finding  myself  the  centre  of  so  much  deferential  and 
admiring  regard.  I  hasten  to  the  parlour  to  tell  my  mother 
of  it.  Her  only  comment  is  "Poor  things!"  I  do  not 
know  why  she  should  pity  them.  But  that  I  am  to  find 
out  later. 

...»•>« 

At  an  inn,  where  we  stop  to  rest  one  morning,  my  mother 
observes  a  woman,  blind  and  decrepit  with  age,  turning 
the  ponderous  wheel  of  a  machine  on  the  lawn.  Going 
out  to  speak  with  her,  she  says : 

"Is  not  that  very  hard  work? " 


A  Carriage  Journey  15 

"Why,  yes,  mistress;  but  I  must  do  something  and  this 
is  all  I  can  do  now,  I  am  so  old." 

"How  old  are  you?  " 

"I  don't  know;  past  sixty  they  tell  me." 

"Have  you  a  husband?" 

"I  don't  know,  mistress." 

"Have  you  ever  had  a  husband?" 

"Yes,  I  was  married." 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"I  don't  know,  mistress,  he  was  sold." 

"Have  you  children?" 

"I  don't  know,  mistress;  I  had  children,  but  they  were 
sold." 

"How  many?" 

"Six." 

"Have  you  never  heard  from  any  of  them  since  they 
were  sold?" 

"No,  mistress." 

"Do  you  not  find  it  hard  to  bear  up  under  such  afflic- 
tions?" 

"Why,  yes,  mistress;  but  God  does  what  He  thinks 
best  for  us." 

A  still  sadder  sight  is  presented  at  a  country  tavern  on 
the  way,  where  the  carriage  arrives  just  at  sunset.  A 
cloud  of  dust  is  seen,  coming  slowly  down  the  road,  from 
which  proceeds  a  confused  noise  of  moaning,  weeping,  and 
shouting.  On  reaching  the  gate  of  the  stable  yard,  it 
discloses  itself.  Ten  naked  little  boys,  between  six  and 
twelve  years  old,  tied  together,  two  and  two,  by  their 
wrists,  are  all  fastened  to  a  long  rope,  and  followed  by  a 
tall,  gaunt,  white  man,  who,  with  his  long  lash,  whips  up 
the  sad  and  weary  little  procession,  drives  them  to  a  horse 
trough  to  drink,  and  thence  to  a  shed,  where  they  lie 
down  on  the  ground,  and  sob  and  moan  themselves  to 
sleep. 


1 6  A  Carriage  Journey 

These,  we  are  told,  are  children  gathered  up  at  different 
plantations  by  the  "trader,"  and  are  to  be  driven  down  to 
Richmond,  to  be  sold  at  auction  and  taken  South. 

We  push  on  southwards,  winding  up  and  down  the 
mountain  roads  in  the  bright  sunshine.  But  I  intuitively 
feel,  as  children  do,  that  somehow  we  are  not  so  merry 
and  cheerful  a  party  as  when  we  first  set  out.  William 
sits  by  my  side  sober  and  silent.  My  father  and  mother 
converse  in  low  tones,  on  the  back  seat. 

When  at  night  they  mention  their  plans,  I  am  rather 
sorry  to  hear  that  we  are  not  going  to  Richmond,  as 
everybody  seems  to  expect,  but  glad  to  know  that  we  are 
to  see  the  two  great  natural  wonders — Weyer's  Cave  and 
the  Natural  Bridge. 

Arriving  one  morning  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  we 
slowly  climb  up  to  "the  Cave,"  which  it  se^ms  is  near  the 
top  instead  of  the  bottom  of  the  mountain.  There  are 
guides  with  tallow  candles  in  tin  sconces,  to  show  it  to 
visitors.  William  and  I  go  with  the  others,  far  enough  into 
the  interior  to  see  some  of  the  glittering  and  fantastic 
stalactites  and  stalagmites,  rising  like  curved  pillars  and 
lost  to  sight  high  up  in  the  darkness. 

But  a  brief  view  of  these  satisfies  our  curiosity,  and  we 
are  content  to  go  outside  and  sit  on  a  bench  in  the  sun- 
shine, while  awaiting  the  return  of  my  father  and  mother 
who  are  exploring  the  farther  recesses  of  the  cavern. 
When  they  come  out  they  tell  of  the  marvels  they  have 
seen.  I  think  I  should  like  to  have  seen  the  things  that 
look  like  statues  and  animals,  but  I  am  not  desirous  to 
go  through  "Washington's  Chamber"  and  the  thirty 
other  realms  of  darkness. 

Now  we  pass  through  Staunton  and  Lexington,  then 
over  more  rocky  hills  and  mountain  roads.  Finally  we 
come  in  sight  of  the  Natural  Bridge.  Here  we  pause,  for 
some  hours,  to  wonder  and  admire.  The  great  rocky  arch 


First  Visit  to  Washington  17 

looks  as  if  it  had  been  excavated  by  human  hands,  yet 
none  have  ever  laboured  at  it.  We  drive  across  it  in  our 
carriage.  We  walk  under  it  by  the  side  of  the  creek  which 
it  spans,  and  at  last  we  leave  it  reluctantly. 

And  now  we  turn  our  faces  northward.  Lion  and  the 
Doctor  trot  off  merrily,  as  if  they  knew  they  were  going 
home.  We  do  not  return  by  the  way  we  came,  but  strike 
by  an  easterly  route,  stopping  to  look  at  Jefferson's  home 
at  Monticello  and  Washington's  at  Mount  Vernon. 

We  end  our  Virginia  pilgrimage  at  Alexandria  at  night- 
fall, and  are  to  cross  the  Potomac  in  the  morning  to  visit 
the  national  capital. 

1835- 

First  Visit  to  Washington.  On  board  the  horse-boat 
in  our  carriage,  we  are  transported  across  the  Potomac 
from  Virginia  to  Georgetown.  Thence  we  drive  at  a 
leisurely  pace  down  into  Washington. 

Seen  from  this  direction  the  city  looks  like  a  jumble 
of  unfinished  and  unpaved  streets.  Here  and  there  a 
brick  building  on  a  corner  lot  marks  the  intersection  of 
some  street  and  avenue.  Between  these  brick  buildings 
are  long  vacant  spaces,  with  occasionally  some  old- 
fashioned  village  residence,  having  its  shade  trees,  fences, 
and  garden. 

Pennsylvania  Avenue  seems  to  be  the  only  one  that 
is  compactly  built  up.  It  looks  to  me  longer  and  broader 
than  any  that  I  have  ever  known.  On  the  hill  at  one 
end  stands  the  magnificent  white  Capitol ;  at  the  other  the 
President's  mansion  is  surrounded  by  a  grove  of  trees. 

We  arrive  at  Gadsby's,  which  is  said  to  be  the  best  hotel, 
and  one  much  patronized  by  members  of  Congress. 
Several  gentlemen  and  some  ladies  call  during  the  evening, 
and  talk  over  the  latest  news  and  gossip  of  the  government 
and  the  city. 


1 8  First  Visit  to  Washington 

Morning  comes,  and  my  mother  tells  me  that  Governor 
Dickerson,  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  is  coming  to  take 
us  up  to  see  the  President.  I  have  heard  (as  who  has  not) 
of  General  Jackson,  "the  Hero  of  New  Orleans,"  and  I 
am  quite  ready  to  make  his  acquaintance.  But  when  my 
mother  brings  out  the  little  coat  I  am  to  wear,  I  demur 
to  the  colour  of  it.  "If  I  wear  a  red  coat,  won't  General 
Jackson  take  me  for  a  Britisher?"  However,  this  ob- 
jection is  overruled. 

In  due  time  Mr.  Secretary  Dickerson  arrives  in  a  car- 
riage, and  we  are  whirled  over  the  macadamized  avenue 
to  the  Executive  Mansion. 

We  ascend  the  stairs  and  are  ushered  into  the  President's 
room,  where  he  sits  at  a  writing  table  with  a  great  pile 
of  commissions  before  him,  to  which  he  is  appending  his 
signature.  He  is  tall  and  thin,  with  iron  grey  hair  brushed 
stiffly  back  from  his  forehead,  and  is  dressed  in  a  black 
suit.  At  first  glance  he  reminds  me  of  my  grandfather 
Seward.  He  rises  and  greets  us  with  stately  courtesy, 
invites  us  to  be  seated,  and  takes  me  on  his  knee. 

The  conversation  opens  with  polite  inquiries  about  our 
travels  and  my  mother's  health.  Then  it  turns  to  govern- 
mental topics,  which  I  do  not  understand;  and  I  amuse 
myself  by  looking  round  the  room.  It  is  a  library,  for 
there  are  bookshelves  on  each  side.  But  its  most  notice- 
able feature  is  that  there  are  so  many  portraits  and  busts  of 
General  Jackson  himself  all  around.  They  are  all  differ- 
ent, yet  each  is  an  unmistakable  likeness. 

When  the  talk  reverts  to  our  journey  again,  and  our 
visit  to  Monticello,  he  seems  much  interested.  Presently 
I  observe  that  his  voice  is  growing  louder  and  his  face 
getting  redder  and  the  arm  round  me  is  quivering  with 
excitement.  Evidently  he  is  getting  angry  with  some- 
body, but  who?  I  am  relieved  to  find  that  it  is  not  with 
any  of  us,  but  somebody  whom  he  calls  "the  Senate," 


11  Colonel  John  "  19 

and  speaks  of  with  scorn.  It  seems  there  is  some  ques- 
tion about  a  statue,  but  the  merits  of  the  case  are  beyond 
my  comprehension;  and  when  Mr.  Dickerson  essays  a 
word  in  behalf  of  the  offending  body,  he  is  summarily 
silenced  by  the  remark,  "That  is  no  argument,  sir." 

But  he  soon  calms  down,  and  the  conversation  goes  on 
smoothly  again.  He  is  emphatic  though  not  irritable 
when  he  tells  my  father  that  "a  frank  and  vigorous  policy 
is  the  best,  in  dealing  with  foreign  nations,  as  with  men." 
When  the  interview  is  closing,  he  again  rises  and  bids  us 
"good-bye,"  with  the  same  stately  courtesy  as  when  he 
received  us. 

As  we  drive  away  down  the  avenue,  I  keep  thinking  of 
the  General  and  his  pictures  and  busts.  Only  two  por- 
traits of  Presidents  are  within  my  remembrance,  those 
of  Washington  and  Jefferson.  Mentally  comparing  these 
I  decide  that  all  Presidents  are  tall,  grey-haired,  and  stern 
looking  and  always  dressed  in  black.  By  the  time  I  have 
reached  this  sage  conclusion,  we  are  at  the  door  of  Gadsby 's. 
And  so  ends  my  first  visit  to  the  White  House. 

1835- 

"  Colonel  John."  In  my  visits  to  my  grandfather's 
home  in  Orange  County,  I  found  there  were  some  old  re- 
sidents still  living,  who  remembered  my  great-grandfather, 
Colonel  John  Seward,  of  Revolutionary  memory.  They 
had  stories  or  traditions  to  tell  about  him. 

He  lived  in  New  Jersey,  and  was  one  of  the  earliest  to 
take  part  in  the  struggle  for  independence.  In  command 
of  a  company,  he  fought  under  Washington,  at  the  battle 
of  Long  Island,  shared  in  the  experiences  of  the  subsequent 
retreat,  and  afterwards  was  in  the  battle  at  White  Plains. 
The  next  year  he  was  engaged  in  the  battle  at  Princeton, 
and  in  1778  in  the  battle  of  Monmouth.  In  1779,  he  had 
been  promoted  to  the  colonelcy  of  a  New  Jersey  militia 


20  "  Colonel  John " 

regiment,  and  with  a  part  of  it  joined  in  the  pursuit  of 
Brant  with  his  Tories  and  Indians,  after  the  bloody  mas- 
sacre at  Minisink. 

The  Tories  in  his  neighbourhood  heartily  hated  and 
feared  him;  and  a  reward  of  twenty  pounds  was  offered 
for  his  capture  "dead  or  alive." 

His  home  in  Sussex  County  was  an  occasional  stopping 
place  for  Washington,  in  his  frequent  journeys  between 
the  New  York  and  New  Jersey  encampments.  "Sew- 
ard's  Home"  is  noted  on  one  of  the  campaign  maps  in 
Irving's  Life  of  Washington. 

One  story  illustrative  of  his  energetic  character  was  in 
regard  to  an  attempt  to  decoy  him  into  an  ambuscade. 
Colonel  Seward  was  sitting  on  his  front  porch,  toward 
evening,  when  an  ill-looking  fellow,  mounted  on  a  cadav- 
erous horse,  which  he  guided  with  a  rope  halter,  rode  up, 
and  delivered  to  him  what  purported  to  be  "a  message 
from  General  Washington."  Colonel  Seward,  suspecting 
some  treacherous  design,  after  questioning  the  messenger, 
said  sharply:  "General  Washington  never  sent  you  on 
such  a  horse  as  that,  with  a  message  to  me."  Turning 
round,  he  took  down  his  rifle,  which  hung  over  the  door- 
way. The  spy,  seeing  himself  discovered,  started  quickly 
to  escape,  whipping  up  his  beast,  in  order  to  warn  his 
confederates.  But  before  he  had  reached  the  gateway, 
a  bullet  from  the  Colonel's  rifle  brought  him  down. 

Another  tale  was  that,  in  one  of  the  Jersey  battles,  the 
colonel  captured,  with  his  own  hand,  a  Hessian  soldier, 
and  brought  his  prisoner  home  with  him.  The  soldier, 
being  a  sensible  German  peasant,  thought  life  on  a  gentle- 
man's country  place  much  preferable  to  service  under 
the  Prince  of  Hesse-Cassel,  who  had  sold  him,  and  King 
George,  who  had  bought  him,  as  "food  for  powder."  So 
he  proposed  to  remain  with  his  captor,  and  proved  to  be 
a  faithful  and  capable  servant,  for  many  years.  His 


The  Panic  of  1837  —  Shinplasters        21 

name  was  not  remembered,  but  he  was  popularly  known 
in  the  neighbourhood  as  "Colonel  John's  Hessian." 


The  Panic  of  1837  —  Shinplasters.  My  first  lesson  in 
finance  came  in  1837.  Like  other  boys,  I  had  my  little 
"money-box"  as  my  savings-bank,  into  which  to  put  an 
occasional  big  copper  cent  or  a  battered  Spanish  sixpence. 

Then  one  summer  came  "Hard  Times,"  when  sixpences 
and  shillings  and  even  pennies  suddenly  disappeared 
from  general  use.  Some  people  said  that  President  Van 
Buren  was  to  blame  for  it.  Others  laid  the  blame  on 
Congress  and  the  banks.  Of  the  crash  of  corporations, 
the  suspension  of  payments,  and  the  wreck  of  merchants, 
I  was  happily  ignorant.  I  only  knew  that  nobody  had 
any  "change"  and  nobody  could  tell  me  why  or  where- 
fore. Or,  if  they  could,  the  reasons  were  beyond  my 
comprehension. 

But  presently  there  began  to  appear  in  use  little  square 
tickets  of  paper,  like  those  of  the  circus  or  the  baker  and 
milkman.  On  these  was  printed,  "Good  for  5  cents,"  or 
"Good  for  sixpence,"  or  "Good  for  I  shilling,"  and  they 
bore  the  name  of  some  merchant  or  tavern-keeper.  These 
I  was  told  were  "  shinplasters."  They  seemed  to  pass 
from  hand  to  hand  as  easily  as  any  other  money.  But 
when  I  got  one  and  proposed  to  put  it  in  my  "money- 
box," I  was  told  it  would  not  do  for  that,  as  it  might  prove 
worthless  any  day.  The  only  thing  to  do  was  to  get  rid 
of  it  as  speedily  as  possible,  —  which  was  always  easy  at  the 
candy  store  and  toy  shop. 

Then  later  I  was  told  that  some  of  the  men  who  issued 
them  were  "calling  them  in"  and  burning  up  whole  hand- 
fuls  of  them,  which  seemed  a  great  waste  of  good  money. 

When  silver  and  copper  began  to  appear  again,  I  in- 
quired why  those  paper  things  were  called  "shinplasters." 


22  "  Henry  Clay  at  Auburn  " 

No  one  seemed  to  know  until  I  asked  my  grandfather, 
who  laughed  and  said  he  supposed  it  was  because  people 
hated  them  as  much  as  they  did  the  shinplasters  they 
used  to  have  when  he  was  a  boy.  But  what  were  they? 
So  he  went  on  to  tell  me. 

In  the  days  when  he  was  young,  every  gentleman  wore 
knee  breeches  and  long  silk  stockings  on  his  legs.  When 
he  went  out  to  ride  on  horseback  or  to  walk  through  mud 
and  snow,  he  put  on  long  riding  boots  over  them.  On 
coming  in  chilled  and  cold,  he  pulled  off  the  boots  and  sat 
down  in  front  of  the  open  fire,  where  everybody  drew  up 
their  chairs  to  get  warm.  Of  course  the  knees  were  the 
parts  nearest  the  blaze.  These  frequent  and  sudden 
changes  from  cold  to  heat  and  heat  to  cold  made  the 
shin  tender,  and  "sore  shins"  were  a  prevalent  winter 
complaint.  Various  salves,  ointments,  and  plasters  were 
prescribed  for  their  cure. 

Said  he:  "I  never  was  so  glad  of  any  change  of  fashion 
as  I  was  when  pantaloons  came  in.  The  three-cornered 
hats  and  ruffled  shirts  and  buckled  shoes  were  well  enough, 
but  I  hated  the  knee  breeches  as  much  as  I  did  the  pigtails 
tied  with  eelskin.  People  said  the  fashion  would  change 
again,  and  go  back  to  the  short  breeches,  but  I  do  not 
believe  it  ever  will,  in  this  country,  whatever  the  British 
and  French  may  do." 

1839. 

"  Henry  Clay  at  Auburn."  "Henry  Clay  is  coming  to 
Auburn.  He  is  to  stop  over  night  at  Governor  Seward's." 
This  is  the  joyful  news.  The  great  Kentucky  statesman 
is  making  a  "tour"  through  several  States  this  summer, 
and  at  Cayuga  Bridge  a  delegation  from  Auburn  on  horse- 
back and  in  carriages  meet  him  and  escort  him  to  town. 
All  the  Whig  boys  and  most  of  the  Whig  men  are  on  the 
gui  vive  to  welcome  him. 


"  Henry  Clay  at  Auburn  "  23 

He  arrives  in  the  afternoon,  in  a  barouche  and  a  cloud 
of  dust.  He  is  received  and  welcomed  at  the  hotel  with 
flags,  music,  cheering,  speeches,  and  much  handshaking. 
His  tall  form  and  commanding  air,  his  winning  smile  and 
resonant  voice  rouse  the  public  enthusiasm.  After  the 
public  reception,  he  comes  over  to  spend  the  night  at 
our  house.  All  the  evening  the  parlor  is  thronged  with 
ladies  who  are  captivated  by  his  courtly  manner,  and 
men  who  eagerly  drink  in  his  words  of  political  wisdom. 
This  is  still  going  on  when  I  am  sent  up  to  bed. 

Early  in  the  morning  I  am  up  and  out  to  play  in  the 
dooryard.  In  the  woodshed  I  find  a  young  and  very 
well-dressed  coloured  man,  who  is  polishing  a  pair  of 
boots.  I  venture  to  ask  him  if  he  is  "Charles."  "Yes, 
I'se  Charles,  sure  enough.  And  what  may  your  name  be?  " 

I  tell  him,  and  then  ask  him  if  he  has  been  long  with 
Mr.  Clay. 

"Ever  sence  I  was  born,"  he  says.  "And  I  'spect  I'm 
going  to  stay  with  him,  too.  Some  of  them  fool  fellers 
down  to  Boston  tried  to  get  me  to  leave  him,  and  come 
there  to  live.  But  I  said  to  'em,  'No,  sir,'  says  I,  'I'm 
going  to  stick  to  Mas'r  Clay,  and  going  back  with  him  to 
Ole  Kaintuck.  Henry  Clay  and  Ole  Kaintuck  are  good 
enough  for  me  any  day. ' ' 

Then,  contemplating  the  boots,  he  continues:  "My 
ole  man  he  wakes  me  up  right  early  and  tells  me  to  get 
these  boots.  Now,  I'm  going  to  wake  him  up  right  early 
and  tell  him  to  get  up  and  get  his  breakfast." 

So,  with  a  laugh  and  a  flourish,  he  departs  to  the  house, 
leaving  me  to  ponder  over  the  new  phase  of  the  Abolition 
question,  which  his  words  have  presented  to  my  mind. 

1839- 

The  Governor's  Mansion.  "Kane's  Walk,"  on  West- 
erlo  Street  in  Albany,  was  a  fine  old  residence,  which 


24  The  Governor's  Mansion 

had  been  occupied  in  former  years  by  Governors  Clinton, 
Tompkins,  and  Yates.  It  was  now  selected  as  my  father's 
"Executive  Mansion."  It  stood  at  some  distance  back 
from  the  roadway,  and  was  a  spacious  two-storied  brick 
edifice,  painted  in  the  Colonial  style,  yellow  with  white 
blinds.  The  grounds  were  large,  but  had  been  shorn  of 
some  of  their  former  grandeur.  A  street  had  been  cut 
through  what  was  originally  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  the  remains  of  the  old  avenue  extending  from  South 
Pearl  Street  were  visible.  But  there  were  still  two  or 
three  acres  of  land  and  a  grove  of  trees  surrounding  the 
house,  with  ample  space  for  stable,  carriage  house,  and 
outbuildings,  and  on  the  south  side  was  the  formal  garden, 
whose  beds  and  walks  were  now  overgrown  with  grass. 

A  broad  hall  extended  through  the  middle  of  the  house 
from  the  front  door  to  the  rear  one.  This  was  carpeted 
and  furnished  as  a  sitting-room,  and  was  well  adapted 
for  the  reception  of  deputations,  committees,  and  casual 
visitors.  On  one  side  of  it  were  two  parlors  connected 
by  folding  doors  and  opening  into  a  great  dining-room, 
fifty  feet  long,  which  was  also  used  as  a  ballroom.  On 
the  other  side  were  three  or  four  family  rooms,  and  there 
were  half  a  dozen  more  above. 

In  the  wing  nearest  to  Westerlo  Street  was  the  library 
or  office,  which  the  Governor  could  use  as  a  study,  or  for 
the  reception  of  confidential  visitors,  as  it  had  a  separate 
entrance.  A  room  for  his  private  secretary  adjoined  it. 

Below,  a  spacious  basement  contained  two  kitchens, 
several  servants'  rooms,  and  cellars.  Here  were  the 
coloured  servitors,  old  and  young — some  of  whom  had 
traditions  of  the  days  when  they  lived  with  Governor 
Clinton  or  Governor  Tompkins.  In  fact  the  house 
seemed  especially  well  adapted  to  its  uses.  There  was 
plenty  of  light  and  air.  Heat  was  supplied  by  Nott-stoves 
and  grate  fires,  to  burn  Liverpool  coal — anthracite  was 


The  Governor's  Mansion  25 

still  scarce — and  there  were  wood  stoves  in  the  family 
rooms.  Furnaces  and  heaters  for  household  use  were 
not  yet  in  vogue. 

Light  for  evening  entertainments  was  supplied  by 
sperm  candles,  in  chandeliers,  mantel  and  table  can- 
delabra, brackets  and  silver  gilt  candlesticks — making  the 
rooms  brilliant  but  entailing  much  care.  As  the  guests 
of  the  first  evening  party  were  taking  their  leave,  the 
stately  head-waiter,  William,  presented  himself  with  a 
bow,  to  say:  "Governor,  shall  we  begin  to  blow?" — and 
receiving  permission  commenced  extinguishing  the  candles. 

The  grounds  gave  ample  space  for  children  to  play,  and 
our  neighbours  and  friends  joined  us  there  for  ball  games, 
marbles,  and  "follow  my  leader"  in  the  summer,  and  for 
snow  forts  and  sliding  downhill  in  winter.  In  these 
sports  we  had  as  companions  various  dogs  and,  at  one 
time,  "Jenny,"  a  tame  fawn. 

It  was  the  fashion  for  the  Governor  to  entertain  gener- 
ously. On  New  Year's  Day  he  was  expected  to  keep 
open  house  for  all  comers.  Through  the  winter  there 
were  numerous  dinners  and  evening  parties  with  dancing. 
The  usual  dinner  hour  in  Albany  then  was  two  o'clock, 
but  on  state  occasions  it  was  put  off  till  four  or  five. 
Evening  parties  began  promptly  at  eight,  and  were  usu- 
ally over  at  or  soon  after  midnight. 

The  old  Albany  families,  the  State  officers  and  members 
of  the  Legislature,  especially  the  Whig  ones,  met  on  these 
occasions,  and  distinguished  visitors  to  the  city  were  also 
guests.  In  their  long  procession  during  four  years  came 
Washington  Irving,  Daniel  Webster,  General  Scott,  Josiah 
Quincy,  Ambrose  Spencer,  John  Davis,  John  J.  Crittenden, 
Hugh  S.  Legar6,  Francis  Granger,  Dr.  Eliphalet  Not't, 
Lewis  Gaylord  Clark,  Sir  Charles  Bagot,  Lord  Morpeth, 
and  others  of  well-known  memory. 

John  C.  Spencer,  the  Secretary  of  State,  and  Rufus 


26  The  Governor's  Mansion 

King,  the  Adjutant-General,  were  frequent  callers  to 
discuss  questions  of  administration.  Three  or  four  pro- 
minent New  York  Whigs,  Richard  M.  Blatchford,  James 
Bowen,  Simeon  Draper,  and  Moses  H.  Grinnell,  with 
Thurlow  Weed  and  Lewis  Benedict  of  Albany,  were  said 
by  the  New  York  Herald  to  constitute  the  "Governor's 
Clique,"  since  they  were  in  such  frequent  consultation 
with  him. 

Delegations  from  charitable,  religious,  and  scientific 
societies  occasionally  appeared,  to  urge  the  Governor  to 
take  official  action,  or  make  recommendations  to  the 
Legislature,  in  their  behalf.  But  to  me  those  of  especial 
interest  were  the  young  pupils  of  the  blind  or  deaf  and 
dumb  asylums,  who,  having  exhibited  their  proficiency 
to  the  legislative  committees,  came  to  spend  the  evening 
at  the  Governor's  and  invoke  his  help. 

The  office  or  library  with  its  separate  entrance  was 
used  by  the  Governor  in  the  morning  to  dispose  of  his 
correspondence.  That  finished,  he  would  go  up  to  the 
Capitol  and  spend  several  hours  in  the  Executive  Cham- 
ber in  receiving  visitors  and  attending  to  official  work. 
When  some  important  state  paper  or  message  was  to  be 
prepared,  he  would  go  to  work  on  it  in  the  "office  "with 
the  help  of  his  private  secretary,  and  often  protract  the 
labour  all  the  evening  and  far  into  the  night.  Samuel 
Blatchford  was  his  first  private  secretary,  and  afterward 
Henry  Underwood. 

As  the  office  was  lighted  and  warmed  even  when  not 
occupied,  I  found  it  a  quiet  and  comfortable  place  to  read 
or  study  my  lessons.  On  the  bookshelves  were  Irving, 
Shakespeare,  and  Charles  Lamb,  and  once  a  month  came 
Oliver  Twist  or  Nicholas  Nickleby  or  Ainsworth's  lurid 
Tower  of  London,  while  the  New  Yorker  and  the  Mirror 
came  every  week,  so  there  was  no  lack  of  good  reading. 
In  my  corner,  I  listened  sometimes  to  the  discussions  over 


The  Governor's  Mansion  27 

the  state  papers,  and  though  rather  difficult  as  political 
problems,  I  found  them  more  interesting  than  the  Greek 
grammar  or  Daboll's  Arithmetic.  Thus  I  acquired  a 
smattering  of  knowledge  and  an  opinion  as  to  the  merits 
of  the  Virginia  Controversy,  the  Georgia  Controversy, 
the  Canal  Debt,  the  School  System,  the  Registry  Law, 
the  McLeod  Case  and  the  "Helderberg  War,"  and  other 
topics  supposed  to  be  beyond  my  years. 

But  in  1840  came  a  whole  box  full  of  interesting  reading. 
The  Legislature  had  made  an  appropriation  for  School 
District  libraries,  and  Harper  &  Brothers  had  prepared 
a  library  of  fifty  or  a  hundred  duodecimo  volumes,  ar- 
ranged in  a  neat  little  pine  case.  A  sample  set  was  sent 
up  to  the  Governor  for  his  inspection,  history,  travels, 
and  fiction  in  such  attractive  form  became  immediately 
popular.  Thurlow  Weed  borrowed  the  Life  of  Franklin, 
the  Adjutant-General  the  concise  story  of  Napoleon's 
campaigns.  Gulian  C.  Verplanck  found  amusement  in  a 
little  volume  on  Chinese  manners  and  customs,  and  when 
he  came  to  dinner,  greeted  us  with  "chin-chin"  and 
announced  that  he  had  come  to  "eat  rice  under  the  light 
of  our  countenance."  For  my  own  part  I  was  deep  the 
first  day  in  Dana's  Two  Years  before  the  Mast. 

There  was  other  fascinating  literature  in  the  proof 
sheets,  sent  for  the  Governor's  inspection,  of  the  successive 
volumes  of  the  Natural  History  of  New  York.  The  Geo- 
logical Survey  begun  during  Governor  Marcy's  term  had 
now  expanded  into  the  great  quarto  volumes  dealing 
with  Ornithology,  Zoology,  Ichthyology,  and  Crustacea, 
illustrated  by  engravings  in  the  best  style  of  art.  Those 
volumes  to  this  day  are  invaluable  works  of  reference  in 
scientific  libraries.  Occasionally  the  professors  in  charge 
of  the  respective  portions  of  the  work  would  call  to  explain 
matters  to  the  Governor,  who  was  to  write  an  introduction 
to  the  whole  series. 


28  The  Governor's  Mansion 

The  fine  arts  also  found  a  foothold  in  the  office. 
When  a  sculptor  or  painter  desired  to  get  a  likeness  of 
the  Governor,  he  was  invited  to  set  up  his  easel  or  his  clay 
in  the  office,  where  he  could  study  the  Governor's  features 
and  expression.  As  there  was  no  time  for  sittings,  this 
had  to  be  done  while  he  was  at  work.  Here  Frankenstein 
made  his  bust  and  Carlin  his  portrait. 

Most  marvellous  of  all  were  some  curious  pictures 
brought  by  Gavit,  the  engraver,  one  day  to  show  to  the 
Governor.  They  were  about  six  inches  square,  taken 
on  metallic  plates,  resembling  engravings,  except  that 
the  polished  plate  reflected  objects  like  a  looking-glass. 
It  was  necessary  to  hold  them  at  an  angle,  in  order  to 
see  what  the  subject  was.  On  one  was  an  accurate  though 
faint  representation  of  State  Street  and  the  Capitol;  on 
another  a  view  of  the  Museum  on  the  corner  of  North 
Market  Street.  But  objects  were  reversed  and  the  signs 
read  backward.  These,  we  were  told,  were  the  results  of  a 
new  process  devised  by  a  Frenchman  named  Daguerre,  and 
were  the  imprint  of  light  itself  through  a  camera.  Various 
comments  were  made  on  the  new  scientific  discovery. 
Some  saw  in  it  the  beginning  of  a  revolution  in  art,  but 
others  insisted  that  it  was  all  a  fraud;  that  it  was  simply 
the  transfer  of  engravings  to  the  plates ;  and  that  even  if  it 
was  the  effect  of  light,  the  invention  would  never  amount  to 
anything  because  it  would  be  transient.  They  observed, 
"You  can't  see  much  of  anything  in  them  now,  except  your 
own  face."  These  prophets  were  fortified  in  their  opinion 
when,  a  few  weeks  later,  the  pictures  grew  indistinct  and 
seemed  fading  out  entirely. 

1839-40. 

New  Year's  Day  in  Albany.  Albany  still  observed 
New  Year's  Day  in  accordance  with  old  Dutch  traditions 
and  customs.  It  was  the  favorite  day  for  gifts  and 
greetings,  public  and  private  hospitality. 


New  Year's  Day  in  Albany  29 

Every  gentleman  was  expected  to  call  on  that  day  upon 
the  families  with  whom  he  was  socially  intimate.  This 
had  been  easy  enough  when  the  town  was  small,  but  it  was 
getting  to  be  rather  an  arduous  task  when  one's  acquaint- 
ance had  grown  larger.  Some  still  made  their  peregrina- 
tions on  foot;  others  found  it  desirable  to  use  sleighs  and 
cutters.  Frequently  four  or  five  would  club  together  to 
so  make  their  rounds.  At  every  house  they  would  find 
the  ladies  in  their  parlor,  arrayed  to  receive  them,  and 
usually  a  table  of  refreshments  awaiting  them  in  the 
dining-room.  When  there  were  sixty  or  eighty  calls 
to  be  made,  they  were  necessarily  short,  and  often  would 
be  only  the  exchange  of  greetings  and  good  wishes,  with 
little  or  no  time  to  sit  down  and  converse,  or  to  accept 
the  hospitable  invitation  to  the  table.  Every  guest  was 
expected  to  take  a  New  Year's  cake,  sweetened  and  spiced 
with  caraway  seeds  and  stamped  with  ornamental  figures 
or  inscriptions.  Of  course  he  could  not  eat  them  all,  and 
so  he  frequently  put  them  into  a  basket  or  bag  in  his 
sleigh,  to  be  sent  up  later  in  the  day  to  the  Orphan  Asylum 
or  other  benevolent  institution.  Those  young  men  who 
incautiously  accepted  too  many  of  the  hospitable  glasses 
of  wine  or  punch  were  occasionally  incapacitated  for 
continuing  their  round  of  calls  long  before  the  day  was 
over. 

The  Governor  was  expected  on  New  Year's  Day  to  keep 
"open  house"  for  all  comers.  The  carpets  were  taken 
up  and  the  furniture  removed  from  the  great  hall  and 
the  adjoining  rooms.  Long  tables  were  set  out  with 
refreshments.  Seven  barrels  of  New  Year's  cakes  were 
placed  so  that  every  caller  might  take  one.  The  boys 
of  the  family  had  the  pleasure  of  handing  them  out  of  the 
window  to  such  of  the  throng  as  could  not  get  in. 

The  day  began  with  a  serenade  at  midnight  by  "Johnny 
Cook's  band,"  and  the  stream  of  callers  continued  all  day, 


30  A  Political  Caricature 

varied  occasionally  by  the  advent  of  a  military  organiza- 
tion. 

Albany  was  still  small  enough  and  decorous  enough  to 
do  without  any  uniformed  police  force.  One  constable 
with  two  assistants  were  deemed  sufficient  to  maintain 
order  about  the  mansion. 

1839-40. 

A  Political  Caricature.  There  is  still  extant  a  political 
caricature  of  this  period,  showing  both  wit  and  artistic 
skill.  Its  humorous  points  were  so  well  taken  that 
friends  and  foes  had  to  join  in  the  merriment  it  created. 
It  was  a  lithograph  purporting  to  represent  a  drill  of  the 
new  Whig  State  officers  in  the  vacant  square  in  front  of 
the  Governor's  residence.  It  presented  Thurlow  Weed 
as  drummer,  striding  in  advance,  cigar  in  mouth,  and 
vigorously  beating  a  tune,  to  which  the  others  were  trying 
to  keep  step.  Behind  him  came  the  diminutive  Governor, 
also  smoking,  vainly  trying  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  the 
long-legged  drummer  and  unconsciously  imitating  the 
movements  of  his  hands.  The  Adjutant-General  fol- 
lowed, arrayed  in  most  gorgeous  and  bewildering  regi- 
mentals. Then  came  the  Secretary  of  State  and  Comp- 
troller, the  former  of  whom  evidently  would  not,  while 
the  latter  could  not,  keep  step.  The  Treasurer  had  fallen 
out  of  line,  and,  with  a  determined  air,  sat  down  on  his 
strong  box  to  protect  it;  while  the  Attorney- General, 
sitting  under  a  tree,  was  diligently  conning  his  first  lesson 
in  Blackstone's  Commentaries. 

Of  this  lithograph,  Weed  wrote  to  the  Governor:  "I 
send  you  a  picture.  The  shop  at  which  I  found  it  was 
the  scene  of  capital  fun.  The  salesman  proposed  to  fur- 
nish a  key.  'This,'  said  he,  'is  the  Attorney-General. 
This  fellow  is  Weed,  who  was  a  drummer  in  the  last  war, 
and  an  excellent  likeness.'  By  this  time  a  third  person 


A  Political  Caricature  31 

who  was  standing  by  very  quietly  inquired  whether  I 
considered  it  a  likeness.  The  man  stared  and  the  others 
laughed.  I  stipulated  for  a  reasonable  abatement  of 
nose,  and  agreed  that  the  thing  was  admirable.  They 
have  got  that  jockey  great  coat  that  Lee  made  you.  But 
the  Adjutant  looks  magnificently.  The  figure  intended 
for  Haight  is  a  striking  likeness  of  Holley.  I  found  the 
'Premier*  in  good  humour  and  presented  him  a  copy. 
He  talked  it  all  over  with  Dr.  Nott." 

Years  afterward,  the  story  of  the  origin  of  this  carica- 
ture was  told.  One  evening  at  the  house  of  ex-Comptrol- 
ler Flagg,  the  popular  young  artist  Freeman  was  making 
a  call.  The  family  circle  were  laughing  over  a  burlesque 
article  in  the  Argus,  purporting  to  describe  a  "drill  of 
the  State  Officers."  As  Freeman  sat  listening,  he  took 
out  his  pencil  and  commenced  sketching  on  a  sheet  of 
paper  the  scene  described.  While  thus  engaged  ex- 
Governor  Marcy  came  in,  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and 
recognizing  the  likenesses,  said  sharply  and  indignantly: 

"That's  libellous,  sir.  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  the  man 
who  makes  such  a  picture  can  be  prosecuted  for  libel?" 

"Yes,"  said  Freeman,  looking  up — "Yes,  and  what 
shall  be  done  with  the  scoundrel  who  wrote  the  article?" 

The  general  laugh  that  greeted  this  reply,  showed 
Governor  Marcy  that  he  was  known  to  be  the  author. 
Freeman's  sketch  was  pronounced  so  good  that  next  day 
it  was  taken  to  be  lithographed. 

1839-40. 

The  Pearl  Street  Academy.  It  was  decided  that  I 
should  go  to  school  in  Albany  during  the  winter,  and  the 
Pearl  Street  Academy  was  the  one  selected.  This  was 
in  the  northern  portion  of  the  street,  near  Patroon  Street, 
and  facing  the  square.  Mr.  L.  Sprague  Parsons  was  the 
principal. 


32  The  Pearl  Street  Academy 

This  required  a  pretty  long  walk  daily,  but  my  parents 
believed  the  walk  would  be  beneficial  to  my  health,  and 
I  was  of  an  age  when  any  amount  of  time  spent  in  the 
streets  seemed  preferable  to  the  same  time  spent  in  the 
confinement  of  a  schoolroom. 

The  Academy  had  rather  an  imposing  classic  front 
with  a  portico  of  large  Doric  columns.  The  schoolroom 
extended  across  the  whole  width  of  the  building  on  the 
second  floor,  and  there  were  smaller  rooms  for  classes 
and  recitations. 

On  presenting  myself  as  a  pupil,  I  was  assigned  to  a 
desk  bearing  the  familiar  ink  stains  and  carved  initials 
of  previous  occupants.  As  each  boy  had  a  separate  desk, 
it  was  certainly  more  convenient  and  comfortable  than 
any  I  had  had  in  my  previous  school  experiences,  but  it 
had  the  drawback  in  boys'  eyes  that  it  made  whispering 
difficult  and  surreptitious  mischief  almost  impossible. 

The  boys  occupying  desks  on  each  side  of  mine  I  was 
introduced  to  as  Chapman  and  Williams.  The  roll-call 
of  the  school  was  by  surnames  only,  so  we  fell  naturally 
into  the  habit  of  calling  each  other  by  them  instead  of 
nicknames.  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  several  boys  as 
Lansing,  Dix,  March,  Boyd,  Lush,  Stafford,  and  Vanderlip, 
and  only  accidentally  learned  afterwards  what  their  other 
names  were. 

Some  of  my  schoolmates  were  dull  and  heavy,  but  for 
the  most  part  they  seemed  to  me  to  be  fine,  clever,  and 
good  natured.  There  was  an  unwritten  law  amongst 
them  that  the  bigger  boys  were  not  to  tease  the  little 
fellows.  This  met  my  unqualified  approval,  as  I  was 
one  of  the  little  fellows  myself. 

I  was  set  to  work  on  ^sop's  fables,  though  I  thought 
the  Latin  version  much  more  curt  and  involved,  and 
therefore  much  less  interesting  than  the  English  one  I 
had  at  home.  I  also  grappled  with  the  Greek  alphabet 


The  Pearl  Street  Academy  33 

with  a  view  to  further  struggles  with  the  Testament  at 
a  later  day.  But  the  arithmetic,  the  "doing  sums"  on  a 
slate,  where  they  seemed  to  have  a  proclivity  for  "coming 
out  wrong," — that  was  the  rub!  I  found  my  school- 
mates shared  my  own  opinions  that  Addition  and  Sub- 
traction were  useful  arts,  and  we  all  had  more  or  less 
acquaintance  with  the  Multiplication  table,  and  even 
Long  Division  had  its  uses.  But  "Vulgar  Fractions" 
and  "Reduction"  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  into 
Federal  money,  these  we  felt  sure  we  should  never  want 
to  use  when  we  were  "grown  up."  Probably  we  would 
have  had  the  same  opinion  in  regard  to  "Extraction  of 
the  Cube  Root,"  but  none  of  us  had  got  so  far  as  that  yet. 

When  my  daily  lessons  had  been  learned  and  recited, 
either  well  or  badly,  I  used  to  look  out  through  a  window 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  two-steepled  Dutch 
Church  and  the  town  clock  thereon.  The  hands  moved 
so  slowly  that  I  often  wondered  whether  the  clock  had 
stopped.  However,  it  did  get  at  last  to  twelve  o'clock, 
when  we  had  a  recess  for  lunch,  and  then  finally  to  two 
o'clock,  when  we  were  dismissed  for  the  day. 

Mr.  Parsons  introduced  some  variations  into  the  usual 
weekly  afternoon  for  "declamation  and  compositions." 
Sometimes  we  were  allowed  to  take  part  in  dialogues  on 
the  stage.  Sometimes  the  school  was  resolved  into  a  de- 
bating society.  Two  of  the  older  boys  would  lead  on  the 
"Affirmative"  and  "Negative"  sides,  and  they  chose 
their  followers  alternately,  as  in  a  ball  game.  A  tall, 
serious-faced  boy,  who  I  was  told  was  Morgan  Dix,  usually 
led  on  one  side,  and  a  smiling  young  giant  named  McElroy 
led  on  the  other.  The  little  fellows  were  not  allowed  to 
participate  in  the  debate,  but  we  had  our  opportunity 
at  the  end,  when  the  vote  was  taken  and  we  could  shout 
"Aye"  and  "No"  with  the  loudest.  Occasionally  the 
school  became  the  scene  of  a  spelling  contest,  the  words 


34  Early  Railroad  Experiences 

being  given  out,  not  from  the  spelling  book,  but  from  Web- 
ster's Dictionary.  As  there  were  seventy  or  eighty  of  us, 
each  one's  turn  came  but  seldom,  and  each  hoped  he  would 
get  an  easy  one. 

The  old  Academy  lasted  during  two  winters  of  my  stay 
in  Albany,  and  then  it  came  down  to  give  place  to  more 
modern  structures. 

1840. 

Early  Railroad  Experiences.  On  arriving  at  Schenec- 
tady  from  the  west,  after  a  tedious  stage-coach  journey, 
the  traveller  would  find  there  the  cars  of  the  "Mohawk 
and  Hudson  Railroad,"  the  first  link  in  the  great  chain 
that  was  ultimately  to  stretch  across  the  State. 

The  cars  were  of  the  English  pattern,  short  and  divided 
into  three  compartments,  each  having  two  transverse 
seats  for  passengers.  A  narrow  "running  board"  ex- 
tended along  the  outside  on  which  the  conductor  made 
his  rounds  to  gather  fares  through  the  windows.  The 
baggage  was  piled  on  top  of  the  car. 

One  or  two  horses  then  drew  the  car  for  half  a  mile  or 
more  to  the  foot  of  a  hill.  Here  was  an  inclined  plane, 
up  which  the  car  was  drawn  by  a  heavy  cable  running 
over  wheels,  and  worked  by  a  stationary  engine  at  the 
summit.  Reaching  the  plateau,  thickly  covered  with 
pine  woods,  the  cars  were  next  attached  to  one  of  two 
locomotives,  named  respectively  the  "John  Bull"  and 
"Brother  Jonathan."  Fifteen  miles  more  of  the  journey 
were  thus  accomplished.  Then  the  level  ground  ended, 
and  the  descent  into  the  valley  of  the  Hudson  began, 
horses  again  taking  the  place  of  the  locomotive.  So  the 
car  reached  State  Street  in  Albany,  and  there  entered 
the  "car  house"  near  the  Capitol. 

This  was  well  enough  for  passengers  going  to  places 
"on  the  hill,"  but  not  for  passengers  and  freight  going 


Early  Railroad  Experiences  35 

down  to  the  lower  town  and  the  steamboat  landing.  So 
the  railway  company  soon  after  established  another  in- 
clined plane  running  down  by  way  of  Lydius  Street. 

The  journey  of  sixteen  miles  was  thus  made  more 
smoothly  but  not  much  more  quickly  than  by  the  Turn- 
pike, on  account  of  the  changes  and  delays.  In  fact,  at 
Schenectady  stages  were  in  waiting  by  the  side  of  the 
train,  whose  drivers  shouted,  "Take  you  to  Albany 
quicker  than  the  cars,  for  fifty  cents.  Right  to  the  door 
of  your  hotel."  Many  chose  that  alternative. 

The  railway  next  constructed  was  that  from  Utica  to 
Schenectady,  where  the  track  could  follow  an  almost  level 
grade  along  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk.  This  greatly 
shortened  the  journey. 

Auburn  and  Syracuse,  which  were  then  two  villages, 
each  having  about  five  thousand  inhabitants,  next  deter- 
mined that  they  would  have  railway  connection.  After 
some  little  delay  in  obtaining  the  charter,  the  funds,  and 
the  right  of  way,  the  road  was  completed.  Desirous  of 
getting  it  into  operation  as  speedily  as  possible,  the  com- 
pany laid  down  wooden  rails  to  serve  till  the  iron  ones 
should  arrive. 

My  father's  family  were  invited  to  one  of  the  early 
trial  trips.  Mr.  Sherwood,  the  stage  proprietor,  and  his 
family  occupied  the  adjoining  compartment  in  the  one 
passenger  car.  Another  was  improvised  by  putting  the 
body  of  one  of  Sherwood's  stages  on  a  platform  car.  Thus 
equipped,  and  drawn  by  horses,  we  made  the  journey  to 
Syracuse  in  what  seemed  the  marvellously  short  time  of 
two  hours  and  a  half. 

A  few  months  later  more  cars  were  obtained,  and  two 
locomotives,  the  "Auburn"  and  the  "Syracuse,"  which 
were  objects  of  admiration  and  curiosity  all  along  the 
line.  The  locomotive  whistle  was  a  novelty,  and  the 
boys  were  of  the  opinion  that  the  engineer  must  have 


36  Early  Theatrical  Memories 

very  strong  lungs  to  be  able  to  blow  it  so  loudly.  To  ride 
with  him  was  a  delightfully  dangerous  privilege  granted 
to  only  a  favoured  few. 

Some  travellers  still  preferred  to  go  by  the  packet 
boats  of  the  Erie  Canal.  The  journey  required  no  changes 
and  was  smooth  and  safe,  except  for  the  risk  of  having 
one's  head  knocked  by  a  "low  bridge."  The  speed  was 
about  the  same  as  that  of  the  stage-coach,  the  three  horses 
being  kept  on  a  brisk  trot — though  the  locks  caused  some 
delay. 

The  long  and  narrow  shape  of  the  canal  boat  made  it 
necessary  to  serve  the  meals  on  very  narrow  tables.  The 
sleeping  arrangements  were  unique.  At  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening  the  captain  would  take  his  stand  at  the  door 
of  the  cabin  with  a  list  of  the  passengers  in  his  hand.  He 
would  then  call  out:  "Mr.  Jones."  Thereupon  Mr. 
Jones  would  meekly  rise  and  proceed  to  the  cabin  and  go 
to  bed.  Next  "Mr.  Brown"  would  be  called  and  comply 
in  like  manner.  The  berths  were  like  shelves  with  no 
adequate  passageway  between,  and  the  passengers  would 
have  to  rise  in  the  morning  in  the  same  order  as  they  re- 
tired. The  last  one  to  go  down  would  be  the  first  to  get 
up — so  as  to  make  room  for  the  others  to  get  out. 

1840-41. 

Early  Theatrical  Memories.  Everybody,  I  suppose, 
remembers  his  first  visits  to  the  theatre.  Mine  began 
at  Buffalo,  where,  with  my  parents,  I  witnessed  Tom 
Cringle's  Log,  a  melodrama  based  upon  a  novel  of  that 
day.  The  gay  audience  and  brilliant  lights,  the  enliven- 
ing music,  the  rapidly  moving  scenes  of  the  story,  and  the 
reality  of  the  dialogue  on  the  stage  were  all-absorbing,  and 
the  illusion  was  so  perfect  that  I  needed  to  be  reassured, 
between  the  acts,  that  the  house  which  was  struck  by 
lightning  did  not  really  burn  down,  and  that  the  wrecked 


Early  Theatrical  Memories  37 

sailors  did  not  really  drown,  nor  the  pirates  actually 
get  killed,  though  I  fully  believed  they  ought  to  be. 

Afterwards,  at  Auburn,  I  occasionally  saw  the  moral 
or  temperance  drama  at  the  Town  Hall,  and  once  a 
company  of  strolling  players  gave  Macbeth  and  Julius 
Casar.  They  had  not  enough  "supers"  for  the  required 
armies,  so  the  manager  came  over  to  the  Academy  play- 
ground, to  ask  if  some  of  the  taller  boys  would  not  come, 
and  march  in  battle  array  armed  with  shields  and  hel- 
mets? Of  course  they  would,  and  were  delighted  to  do 
so.  Those  of  us  who  were  too  small  for  Thespian  honours 
envied  Roscoe  Conkling  and  burly  Spencer  and  Pasco, 
whose  stature  gave  them  not  only  free  entrance,  but 
actual  participation  in  the  performance. 

But  it  was  at  Albany  that  I  now  saw  the  drama  in  its 
glory.  All  the  boys  and  girls  in  town  eagerly  watched 
the  great  red  double  tent,  going  up  at  the  corner  of  Dallius 
and  Westerlo  streets.  It  was  a  circus  enterprise,  on  a 
large  scale,  exciting  an  interest  like  that  of  Barnum  in 
later  years.  It  was  so  successful  that  in  another  year, 
Nichols,  the  proprietor,  replaced  it  by  a  brick  amphi- 
theatre on  the  same  ground.  This  contained  both  stage 
and  ring.  Usually  equestrian  and  acrobatic  feats  in  the 
ring  were  followed  by  a  farce  or  melodrama  on  the  stage. 

Here  Spartacus  thundered  through  the  voice  of  Forrest, 
and  Richelieu  called  down  the  appalling  "Cur-r-rse  of 
Rome." 

Occasionally  there  would  be  a  spectacle  in  which  stage 
and  ring  were  used  together.  Then  the  wild  horse  would 
not  only  climb  the  canvas  rocks  and  drink  from  the  painted 
stream  on  the  stage,  but  presently  would  be  careering 
round  the  sawdust  circle  with  Mazeppa  lashed  on  his  back. 

When  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  was  first  performed 
the  beautiful  maiden  was  left  tied  to  the  stake  on  the 
stage,  while  the  two  combatants  came  down  into  the  ring 


38  Applicants  for  Pardons 

to  have  it  out,  under  the  eyes  of  the  audience.  Unfor- 
tunately the  first  charge  of  the  Saint  was  so  fierce  that  it 
upset  the  Dragon,  who  lay  helpless  and  kicking.  Evi- 
dently the  boy  who  performed  his  insides  could  not  get 
him  up,  and  the  "terrific  combat"  had  not  yet  come  off. 
Saint  George  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  Dismounting 
he  ran  to  the  prostrate  monster,  kindly  lifted  and  set 
him  on  his  legs  again,  and  then  remounting  his  patient 
steed,  fought  the  combat  out  to  a  finish,  amid  the  applause 
of  an  admiring  audience. 

One  of  the  "properties"  at  the  amphitheatre  was  a 
tame  fawn,  which  Mr.  Nichols  afterward  presented  to  the 
Governor.  She  became  a  favourite  playmate  for  the 
boys  who  named  her  "Jenny."  She  was  always  ready 
for  a  romp  or  a  race  with  us,  in  the  grounds.  After  a 
couple  of  years,  however,  she  grew  so  tall  and  strong  that 
gates  and  fences  could  no  longer  keep  her  in,  when  she 
chose  to  make  one  of  her  flying  leaps. 

One  day  when  the  table  was  set  in  the  dining-room  for  a 
state  dinner,  Jenny  saw  through  the  open  window  a  fine 
bunch  of  flowers  on  the  centrepiece.  With  a  long  leap 
she  seized  the  flowers,  but  at  the  same  time  brought  down 
the  tablecloth,  glass,  and  dishes  in  a  grand  crash,  and  then 
stood  amid  the  debris,  placidly  wondering  at  the  com- 
motion she  had  caused.  So  she  had  to  retire  from  the 
Executive  Mansion  to  private  life  in  the  North  Woods. 

Applicants  for  Pardons.  There  is  a  "black  care"  that 
rides  on  the  shoulders  of  every  governor — that  follows 
him  by  day,  haunts  him  by  night,  and  will  not  be  shaken 
off.  This  is  the  "pardoning  power." 

There  are  always  a  thousand  poor  wretches  in  prison, 
or  on  their  way  there,  and  hardly  one  of  them  but  has  a 
wife  or  child  or  friend  to  implore  executive  clemency. 

Public  opinion,  which  is  an  avenging  Nemesis  as  long 


Applicants  for  Pardons  39 

as  the  culprit  is  at  large,  softens  as  soon  as  he  is  behind 
bolts  and  bars;  and.  not  unfrequently  the  turnkey  who 
locks  him  in,  the  public  prosecutor  who  arraigned  him, 
the  jurors  who  convicted,  and  even  the  judge  who  sen- 
tenced him,  join  in  the  appeal  for  his  release. 

Yet  if  the  governor  weakly  yields  to  the  pressure,  the 
same  instinct  of  self-preservation  in  the  community  which 
sent  the  criminal  to  jail  is  aroused  with  fresh  indignation 
at  seeing  him  at  liberty  in  the  streets. 

But  the  suitors  for  mercy  will  take  no  denial.  How 
can  they?  Then  pleading  letters  come  in  every  mail; 
their  piteous  faces  are  ever  round  the  door  of  the  executive 
chamber.  They  watch  the  governor's  path;  they  wait  in 
his  hall;  they  sit  on  his  doorstep,  and  try  to  gain  the 
sympathy  of  his  family.  If  he  be  of  a  kindly  compassion- 
ate nature,  disposed  to  listen  to  their  "oft-told  tale  "of 
misery,  he  will  have  time  neither  to  eat  nor  sleep,  nor 
write  messages,  nor  make  appointments.  The  applicants 
and  their  applications  are  often  unreasonable,  grotesque, 
and  absurd,  yet  always  sad  and  always  painful. 

One  of  my  father's  early  experiences  of  this  sort  was 
shortly  after  his  inauguration.  A  well-dressed,  ladylike 
woman,  evidently  in  deep  grief,  was  imploring  the  pardon 
of  her  brute  of  a  husband,  sent  to  prison  for  beating  her. 
She  stayed  during  the  whole  evening,  exhausting  her  powers 
of  argument  and  entreaty,  and  deaf  to  any  answer  but  a 
favorable  one.  Growing  excited  and  frantic  over  the 
ill-success  of  her  plea,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees, 
and  with  sobs  and  hysterics,  refused  to  get  up  until  her 
prayer  should  be  granted.  The  Governor,  while  vainly 
endeavouring  to  calm  her,  was  startled  at  seeing  in  the 
open  doorway  the  sudden  apparition  of  York  Van  Allen, 
his  coloured  waiter,  arrayed  in  overcoat  and  cap,  with  a 
lantern  in  his  hand. 

"What  do  you  want,  York?" 


4°  Applicants  for  Pardons 

"I  beg  pard'n,  sir,"  replied  York,  with  the  dignified 
courtesy  which  distinguishes  his  race,  "but  I  thought  de 
time  had  arrived  when  you  wanted  me." 

"Want  you?    What  for?" 

"Governor  Clinton  used  to  allers  tell  me  I  was  to  take 
'em  away,  when  dey  began  to  go  on  like  dat,"  pointing 
to  the  kneeling  female,  "and  Governor  Tompkins  too, 
sir,  allers." 

Equally  to  the  surprise  and  relief  of  the  Governor,  the 
lady  seemed,  like  York,  to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Rising  and  adjusting  her  shawl  and  bonnet  at  the  mirror, 
she  curtsied  adieu,  and  went  off  to  the  hotel,  under  the 
escort  of  York  and  his  lantern. 

Yet  there  are  many  cases  when  the  exercise  of  the 
pardoning  power  is  not  only  judicious  but  is  followed  by 

beneficent  results.  Such  a  one  was  that  of  Catharine . 

Her  pardon  was  accompanied  by  a  kindly  letter  of  advice 
from  the  Governor,  to  return  to  her  country  home,  and, 
by  persevering  assiduity  in  domestic  duties,  try  to  regain 
the  respect  and  confidence  of  her  friends  and  neighbours. 
A  few  years  later  one  of  the  benevolent  friends  who  had 
aided  her  happened  to  be  journeying  through  a  remote 
rural  region,  when  he  unexpectedly  met  Catharine  there 
— now  grown  an  industrious,  respectable  woman,  regarded 
with  esteem  by  her  neighbours.  She  took  from  her  bosom 
the  letter  of  the  Governor,  and  said  it  had  saved  her  from 
ruin,  and  that  she  had  carried  it  about  with  her  ever  since 
it  brought  her  the  welcome  news  of  her  release. 

Both  those  who  solicit  pardons  and  those  who  grant  them 
are  apt  to  look  at  the  case  of  the  individual  sufferer  with- 
out bestowing  much  thought  upon  the  interests  of  the 
community  at  large.  Yet  this  is  really  of  more  extended 
consequence. 

A  forger  had  been  convicted  in  Dutchess  County  on 
evidence  which  left  no  doubt  of  the  crime.  But  he  was 


Applicants  for  Pardons  41 

a  man  of  property,  and  his  high  standing  in  the  community 
and  the  church  had  brought  him  the  help  of  learned  counsel 
and  sympathizing  neighbours,  to  whom  the  verdict  of 
the  jury  was  a  surprise.  So  strong  was  the  pressure  of 
public  opinion  in  his  behalf,  that  the  jury  recommended 
him  to  the  clemency  of  the  Executive,  and  the  court  sus- 
pended sentence  in  order  that  the  application  might  be 
made. 

The  Governor  denied  it,  saying,  as  in  other  cases,  that 
he  could  not  yield  under  the  impulse  of  feeling,  or  from 
respect  to  popular  sympathy;  and  that  to  set  aside  the 
judgment  of  the  courts  where  there  was  no  injustice  or 
doubt  of  guilt,  would  be  to  destroy  public  confidence  in 
the  certainty  of  punishment  and  that  salutary  respect  for 
courts  of  justice  which  secures  the  peace  and  good  order 
of  society. 

There  was  one  case  that  had  a  ludicrous  side  in  its 
unexpected  ending.  A  Frenchman  and  his  wife  who  had 
just  emigrated  to  this  country  were  accused  of  theft, 
locked  up,  tried,  convicted  of  grand  larceny,  and  sent, 
the  woman  to  the  prison  for  female  convicts  at  Sing  Sing, 
and  the  man  to  the  prison  at  Auburn. 

On  review  of  the  evidence,  it  turned  out  that  the  offence, 
on  the  woman's  part  at  least,  had  some  palliating  cir- 
cumstances, and  that  she  had  intended  nothing  worse 
than  to  make  reprisals  on  neighbours  who  had  plundered 
her.  Ignorance  of  the  language  had  prevented  the  case 
from  being  fully  and  fairly  presented  in  court. 

The  Governor  made  out  a  pardon  for  the  woman,  and 
taking  it  with  him  on  one  of  his  visits  to  Sing  Sing,  handed 
it  to  the  warden,  who  forthwith  released  her,  handed  her 
the  pardon,  and  she  went  on  her  way  rejoicing. 

It  happened  that  her  name  and  her  husband's  (Francoise 
and  Francois)  differed  only  in  a  letter,  and  the  engrossing 
clerk  by  mistake  had  written  his  for  hers.  When  outside  of 


42         The  "Morus  multicaulis  "  Fever 

the  prison,  she  looked  at  the  document  which  had  been  put 
in  her  hands,  and  found  there  her  husband's  name.  Not 
doubting  that  he  had  been  pardoned  also,  she  hastened  up 
to  Auburn,  and  presented  it  to  the  warden  of  the  prison 
there.  It  was  in  every  respect  correct,  and  so  Francois 
was  released  also — and  the  pair  started  for  Canada. 

The  mistake  was  discovered  when  the  Governor  next 
visited  Auburn;  but  the  worthy  French  couple  never 
came  back  to  have  it  rectified. 

1840. 

The  "  Morus  multicaulis "  Fever.  A  new  form  of 
agricultural  enterprise  suddenly  arose  in  the  spring  of  this 
year.  It  had  been  demonstrated  by  experiment  that  the 
Morus  multicaulis  would  thrive  in  New  York  and  other 
northern  States,  and  so  it  was  assumed  that  silkworms 
could  easily  and  profitably  be  raised. 

Little  capital  was  required.  Families  could  easily  in- 
crease their  income.  The  owner  of  an  acre  of  mulberry 
trees  could  at  once  embark  in  the  enterprise,  and  his 
children  could  care  for  the  worms  in  the  intervals  of  their 
school  hours.  A  newspaper  spread  over  an  old  table  and 
plentifully  supplied  with  mulberry  leaves  was  all  that  was 
necessary.  The  silkworms  would  not  wander  away  from 
the  table.  Nothing  more  would  be  needed,  except  to 
gather  the  cocoons  when  the  worms  began  to  spin,  as 
they  would  do  in  a  very  few  weeks. 

I  found  that  my  schoolmates,  as  soon  as  the  teacher 
dismissed  us,  hastened  home,  as  I  did,  to  climb  fences  and 
scale  mulberry  trees,  in  order  to  get  the  leaves  to  feed 
their  new  pets. 

As  this  disposition  spread,  it  of  course  enhanced  the 
price  both  of  mulberry  trees  and  of  silkworms'  eggs,  so 
that  those  who  had  begun  early  were  now  reaping  hand- 
some profits. 


The  "Morus  multicaulis  "  Fever         43 

In  New  Jersey  and  Long  Island,  we  were  told,  raw  silk 
had  been  raised,  exported  to  Europe,  and  received  there 
with  commendation.  In  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  Mary- 
land farmers  now  began  to  engage  largely  in  the  business. 

At  Auburn  the  cultivation  received  special  attention. 
There  had  long  been  a  jealousy  of  prison  labour  among 
mechanics  and  manufacturers,  who  found  or  fancied  they 
would  find  themselves  in  competition  with  it. 

It  was  desirable  to  find  some  occupation  for  convicts, 
which  would  not  compete  with  the  trades,  and  yet  would 
meet  the  prison  expenses.  It  was  now  claimed  that  the 
manufacture  of  silk  was  such  a  one.  When  thus  turned 
into  a  silk  manufactory,  the  prison,  instead  of  injuring 
the  mechanics,  would  be  benefiting  them,  and  all  the 
farmers  of  the  surrounding  country,  by  furnishing  a 
steady  market  for  all  the  cocoons  they  could  raise. 

The  experiment  was  tried.  Mulberry  trees  were  set 
out  in  the  prison  grounds.  A  silk  shop  was  established 
with  reels  and  "throwing-mills,"  spindles,  and  dyeing 
kettles.  In  and  around  Auburn  hundreds  of  acres  were 
planted  with  mulberry  trees.  Cocooneries  were  built  or 
extemporized  out  of  farm  buildings  and  rooms  of  dwelling 
houses. 

The  Legislature  passed  laws  encouraging  the  cultiva- 
tion, by  bounties  on  cocoons.  Agricultural  societies 
offered  premiums.  Newspapers  and  periodicals  teemed 
with  advice  about  hatching  and  feeding  silkworms,  and 
calculations  showing  how  easily  one  hundred  bushels  of 
cocoons  per  annum  could  be  produced  by  every  owner  of 
an  acre. 

As  a  further  illustration  of  the  ease  with  which  silk 
might  be  made  in  Central  New  York,  a  lady  appeared  in 
Ontario  County,  dressed  in  silk  which  had  passed  in  all 
its  changes  from  the  leaf  to  the  loom  through  her  own 
hands. 


44         The  Harrison  Campaign  of  1840 

An  advertisement  appeared  in  which  the  agents  of  the 
Auburn  Prison  offered  cash  prices  for  cocoons  and  raw 
silk.  Both  began  to  pour  into  the  market  thus  established 
and  for  four  or  five  years  the  manufacture  went  on. 

But  there  were  other  things  which  had  not  entered  into 
the  calculations.  Adult  male  convicts,  however  cheaply 
supported,  or  easily  supervised,  lacked  the  delicate  touch 
of  women  and  children,  or  the  skilled  experience  of  silk 
workers,  which  come  by  lifelong  training.  Worms  and 
trees,  though  both  may  be  raised  with  success  in  a  northern 
climate,  yet  cannot  be  so  cheaply  raised  as  in  a  milder 
region. 

So  prices  declined,  and  the  enthusiasm  for  the  new  in- 
dustry gradually  waned.  The  "fever"  passed,  and  in  a 
few  years  more  was  entirely  forgotten. 

1840. 

The  Harrison  Campaign  of  1840.  My  boyish  enthu- 
siasm was  all  for  Henry  Clay,  "Harry  of  the  West,"  as 
the  Whig  Presidential  candidate,  and  my  disappointment 
at  his  failure  to  receive  the  nomination  at  Harrisburg  was 
by  no  means  assuaged  by  the  present,  soon  after,  of  a 
handsome  flag  inscribed  with  the  names  in  gilt  letters  of 
"Tippecanoe  &  Tyler  Too." 

But  the  campaign  was  a  long  and  memorable  one. 
Popular  interest  in  it  seemed  to  be  increasing  up  to  the 
day  of  election.  The  Whig  leaders  aided  it  with  all  the 
appliances  that  political  skill  or  experience  could  suggest, 
and  the  Democrats  found  their  arguments  and  even  their 
ridicule  of  the  Whig  candidate  turned  to  his  advantage. 
Someone  alluding  to  his  pioneer  western  life  had  advised 
that  Harrison  be  given  a  log  cabin  and  plenty  of  "hard 
cider"  to  drink — implying  that  that  condition  of  life  was 
more  fitting  for  him  than  the  White  House. 

It  was  an  unfortunate  sneer  for  the  Democrats,  for  it 


The  Harrison  Campaign  of  1840        45 

supplied  the  spark  that  only  was  needed  to  kindle  popular 
sympathy  into  a  blaze.  The  Whigs  fanned  the  flame. 
He  became  "the  Log  Cabin"  candidate.  The  log  cabin 
became  the  emblem  of  his  pioneer  life,  of  his  military 
services,  of  his  kindred  feeling  for  the  farmers,  of  his  un- 
requited toil  for  his  country.  A  log  cabin  sprang  up  in 
nearly  every  city — a  club  house  and  rallying  place  for 
Whigs.  Log-cabin  "raisings"  and  house-warmings  were 
held,  with  music  and  political  speeches.  Log-cabin 
medals  were  struck,  and  passed  from  hand  to  hand. 
Miniature  log  cabins  were  carried  in  processions  and  dis- 
played on  platforms.  Log-cabin  pictures  were  hung  in 
the  bar-rooms  and  parlours.  Log-cabin  magazines  and 
song-books  found  ready  sale.  Ladies  made  log-cabin 
fancy  work  for  fairs,  and  children  had  little  log  cabins  of 
wood,  tin,  and  confectionery. 

The  Whig  State  Committee  got  up  a  campaign  news- 
paper, published  simultaneously  in  New  York  and  Al- 
bany, and  named  it  the  Log  Cabin,  calling  Horace  Greeley 
to  its  editorial  chair.  For  him  it  was  the  stepping-stone 
to  fame  and  fortune,  for  the  energy  and  skill  displayed 
in  it,  and  its  wide  circulation,  opened  a  way  for  its  successor 
the  Tribune. 

All  the  appurtenances  of  the  log  cabin  came  into  favour; 
there  was  the  barrel  of  hard  cider  standing  by  the  door, 
there  was  the  coonskin  nailed  by  its  side,  there  was  the 
latch  string  to  admit  the  welcome  guest,  and  it  was  remem- 
bered that  Harrison  told  his  old  soldiers  that  they  would 
never  find  his  door  shut  or  "the  latchstring  pulled  in." 

But  the  log  cabin  was  not  the  only  ad  captandum  argu- 
ment used  by  the  Whigs.  Taking  a  lesson  from  their 
own  crushing  defeats  by  the  "Hero  of  New  Orleans," 
they  hoisted  flags,  fired  salutes,  and  declaimed  panegyrics 
on  the  "Hero  of  the  Thames,"  the  "Defender  of  Fort 
Meigs, "  and  the  "Victor  of  Tippecanoe." 


46         The  Harrison  Campaign  of  1840 

"Tippecanoe,"  besides  being  the  leading  exploit  of  the 
military  chieftain,  was  a  good  sonorous  name  for  the 
orators  to  pronounce,  and  clubs  to  sing  in  swelling  chorus. 
For  by  this  time  the  popular  enthusiasm  had  burst  out 
in  song.  Campaign  songsters,  glee-clubs,  and  Harrison 
minstrels  were  now  in  vogue.  Familiar  old  melodies 
were  adapted  to  new  words.  But  the  "song  of  songs" 
was  one  which,  having  little  music  in  it,  everybody  could 
sing,  and  nearly  everybody  did. 

This  was: 

What  has  caused  this  great  commotion,  motion,  motion, 
motion 

Our  country  through? 
It  is  the  ball  a-rolling  on, 

CHORUS 

For  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too, 

For  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler  too, 
And  with  them  we'll  beat  little  Van, 
Van,  Van — Van  is  a  used  up  man, 
And  with  them  we'll  beat  little  Van. 

This  chant  was  hummed  in  parlours  and  kitchens — sung 
by  the  boys  in  the  streets — marched  to  in  processions, 
and  was  a  grand  finale  at  all  Whig  meetings,  the  whole 
audience  shouting  it  through  their  thousand  throats  with 
as  much  fervour  as  Frenchmen  sing  the  Marseillaise  or 
Englishmen  chant  God  Save  the  King. 

Most  presidential  candidates  have  a  nickname,  and 
General  Harrison,  long  before  the  summer  was  over,  was 
universally  known  as  "Old Tip."  There  were  Tippecanoe 
banners,  Tippecanoe  clubs,  Tippecanoe  meetings.  Steam- 
boats were  named  after  him,  children  christened  for  him. 
Dogs  were  called  "Tip,"  and  spans  of  horses  were  "Tip 
and  Ty." 


The  Harrison  Campaign  of  1840         47 

Political  meetings  took  on  a  new  character.  They  were 
no  longer  forced  assemblages  in  club  rooms,  but  spon- 
taneous outdoor  crowds  overflowing  with  enthusiasm. 
Whole  counties  were  called  to  assemble  in  "mass-meeting" 
— whole  States  were  invited  to  meet  in  mass  convention. 
Great  meetings  were  held  in  cities,  and  obscure  country 
towns  became  the  gathering  points  for  thousands.  Held 
by  daylight  the  mass-meeting  made  a  holiday  for  the 
whole  surrounding  region.  Farmers  flocked  in  by  all  the 
country  roads  bringing  their  wives  and  children.  Delega- 
tions came  by  rail  and  steamboat  from  distant  points. 
Nothing  attracts  a  crowd  so  rapidly  as  the  knowledge  that 
there  is  a  crowd  already — and  when  it  was  known  that 
there  was  to  be  not  only  a  crowd,  but  music  and  festivity, 
flags,  decorations  and  processions,  eloquence  of  famous 
men  and  keen  political  humour,  few  could  resist  the  infec- 
tion. Webster  and  Clay,  Crittenden  and  Stanley,  Cor- 
win,  Leigh,  Legare,  Rives,  Ogden  Hoffman,  Preston,  and 
a  hundred  of  lesser  note  were  "on  the  stump."  General 
Harrison  himself  made  a  speech  at  the  Dayton  Conven- 
tion. "Are  you  in  favour  of  paper  money?"  asked  the 
multitude.  "I  am,"  was  the  reply,  and  then  the  shouts 
of  applause  were  deafening. 

Of  course  this  was  just  the  kind  of  campaign  to  strike 
the  imagination  of  the  small  boy.  I  do  not  know  how 
many  meetings  I  attended,  how  many  songs  I  sung,  or 
how  many  log  cabins  I  took  part  in  erecting. 

It  seemed  to  be  the  natural  culmination  of  such  a  cam- 
paign when  I  was  permitted  to  sit  among  the  pages  at  the 
meeting  of  the  Electoral  College  at  Albany,  and  saw  that 
august  body  cast  their  vote,  under  the  lead  of  two  Revo- 
lutionary veterans,  Colonel  James  C.  Burt  of  Orange 
County  and  Peter  B.  Porter  of  Niagara. 

The  dramatic  proceedings  came  to  a  sudden  and  tragic 
ending  in  April.  I  recall  the  popular  grief  when  the  news 


48  The  Helderberg  War 

came  that  the  newly  elected  President  lay  dead  in  the 
White  House.  Funeral  and  memorial  services  were  held 
at  Albany  and  other  cities,  and  I  especially  remember  the 
torchlight  procession  with  which  they  closed,  when  the 
coffin  of  "Old  Tip"  was  borne  in  red  glare  with  solemn 
music,  and  followed  by  the  riderless  horse  of  the  old  hero. 

The  Helderberg  War.  The  ancient  Manor  of  Rensse- 
laerwyck,  which  dated  back  to  the  time  of  the  earlier  Dutch 
settlers,  had  been  handed  down  from  father  to  son  in  the 
Van  Rensselaer  family  through  a  long  line  of  "Patroons." 

While  modern  customs  and  innovations  had  gradually 
changed  the  aspect  of  the  whole  country,  society,  and 
government,  the  Patroon  and  his  tenants  were  still  con- 
tinuing the  old  usages  of  feudal  tenure,  of  perpetual 
leases,  of  rent  payable  in  fowls  and  bushels  of  wheat,  in 
personal  service  and  in  "quarter  sales." 

The  Manor  comprised  a  broad  region  of  Albany  and 
Rensselaer  counties  "extending  on  either  side  of  the  Hud- 
son River  backward  into  the  woods  twenty-four  English 
miles."  It  is  said  the  original  grant  meant  to  give  the 
Patroon  the  choice  of  a  manor  on  one  or  the  other  side  of 
the  river,  but  that  the  grantees  took  advantage  of  the 
ambiguity  of  language  of  the  grant  and  construed  the 
words  "either  side"  to  mean  both  sides  of  the  river. 

It  had  now  become  well  settled,  cultivated,  and  im- 
proved. The  tenants  had  gradually  come  to  think  that 
their  long  occupancy  of  the  lands  and  their  improvements 
had  at  least  vested  a  part  of  the  ownership  in  themselves, 
and  that  the  rents  paid  during  so  long  a  series  of  years 
more  than  compensated  for  the  wild  land  which  the  first 
Van  Rensselaers  had  sold  to  the  original  settlers. 

This  theory  had  been  much  strengthened  by  the  neglect 
of  the  "old  Patroon,"  General  Van  Rensselaer,  to  make 
collections  of  his  rents.  When  he  died  in  the  early  part 


The  Helderberg  War  49 

of  this  year,  the  Manor  had  been  divided  between  his 
sons,  Stephen  taking  the  part  in  Albany  County  and  Wil- 
liam that  in  Rensselaer  County.  A  third  brother,  Court- 
landt,  took  the  real  estate  in  New  York  City. 

It  was  in  Albany  County  that  the  troubles  began. 
The  young  Patroon's  lawyers  advised  him  he  might  en- 
force his  legal  right  to  collect  rents.  When  this  claim 
was  made  in  behalf  of  the  heir,  the  tenants  very  generally 
resolved  to  resist  it  as  illegal  and  unjust.  Legal  measures 
were  taken  to  compel  payment.  But  when  the  sheriff 
went  out  upon  the  farms,  he  was  met  by  gatherings  of 
angry  men  with  threats  and  execrations.  Alarms  were 
given  through  the  neighbourhood,  horns  sounded,  tar 
barrels  fired,  and  the  obnoxious  writs  were  seized  and 
thrown  into  the  flames.  Shouts  of  "Down  with  the 
Rent"  were  heard  from  the  gathering  crowd  of  rural 
rioters  who,  with  brandished  sticks  and  arms,  and  with 
threats  of  personal  violence,  compelled  the  official  to 
turn  his  horses'  heads  towards  home. 

Such .» was  the  news  received  in  Albany.  Thereupon 
the  Sheriff  resolved  to  resort  to  a  posse  comitatus.  He 
summoned  six  or  seven  hundred  citizens  to  appear  at  his 
office  in  Albany  on  Monday  morning  at  ten  o'clock. 

Great  was  the  excitement,  and  much  the  merriment 
in  the  crowd  that  gathered  round  his  office,  and  high  was 
the  delight  of  the  small  boys  who  flocked  around  to  watch 
the  marching  of  this  novel  force.  The  merriment  in- 
creased when  Sheriff  Archer  came  out  on  the  sidewalk 
and  commenced  to  call  the  roll.  It  showed  that  he  was 
no  respecter  of  persons,  for  among  the  names  were  those 
of  ex-Governor  Marcy,  Recorder  McKoun,  John  Van 
Buren,  the  presidents  and  cashiers  of  the  banks,  the  Pa- 
troon's lawyers,  and  the  Patroon  himself. 

The  posse  proceeded  on  horseback,  on  foot,  and  in 
carriages,  with  the  sheriff  in  command,  twelve  miles  from 

4 


50  The  Helderberg  War 

the  town,  till  he  reached  a  small  hamlet  at  the  foot  of  the 
Helderberg.  But  here  the  posse  summoned  according 
to  law  met  another  posse,  not  summoned  at  all,  and 
defiant  of  any  law  whatever.  The  unlawful  gathering 
outnumbered  the  lawful  one,  for  it  mustered  fifteen  or 
eighteen  hundred  men,  and  furthermore  it  had  clubs  while 
the  sheriff's  posse  had  none.  The  sheriff  became  satisfied 
that  his  force  was  "entirely  inadequate  to  overcome  the 
resistance,"  an  opinion  in  which  his  whole  force  unani- 
mously concurred.  So  they  endeavoured  to  retreat  to 
Albany  in  as  good  order  as  they  came  out  of  it.  A  second 
posse  comprising  a  hundred  or  more  armed  men  did  not 
have  a  greater  success.  A  rainstorm  rendered  the  roads 
almost  impassable,  and  this  time  the  rioters  resorted  to 
the  expedient  of  barricading  all  the  places  where  the 
sheriff  and  his  posse  could  find  food  or  shelter  from  the 
storm. 

Only  one  alternative  remained  to  vindicate  the  majesty 
of  the  offended  law.  That  was  to  apply  to  the  Governor 
for  a  military  force,  to  enable  the  sheriff  to  execute  his 
process.  It  was  evident  that  the  time  had  come  for 
executive  action.  The  messenger  from  the  Sheriff  arrived 
late  at  night,  and  Mr.  Blatchford,  the  private  secretary, 
was  sent  to  summon  the  Secretary  of  State,  Comptroller, 
and  Adjutant-General,  to  a  midnight  council  of  war  in 
my  father's  office. 

The  council  remained  in  session  all  night,  and  the  dawn 
of  day  found  them  there  round  the  table  strewed  with 
papers,  and  with  candles  still  burning. 

Hitherto  I  had  only  seen  my  father's  military  staff  in 
their  holiday  attire  on  parade  occasions;  now  I  found 
them  suddenly  transformed  into  an  active  and  resolute 
group  of  young  men  quite  ready  to  assume  soldierly  duties. 
Adjutant-General  Rufus  King  proved  his  West  Point 
education  of  value,  in  enabling  him  to  accomplish  that 


The  Helderberg  War  51 

greatest  proof  of  military  skill,  of  massing  an  effective 
body  of  troops  at  the  shortest  possible  notice.  Colonels 
Amory,  Bowen,  and  Benedict  were  sent  "to  the  front," 
with  orders  to  attend  to  the  movement  of  troops;  the 
commissariat  was  supplied  by  wagon  loads  of  bread  and 
meat,  blankets  and  tents.  Major  William  Bloodgood 
was  assigned  to  the  command  of  a  battalion,  consisting 
of  the  Burgesses  Corps,  the  Van  Rensselaer  Guards,  the 
Union  Guards,  the  Republican  Artillery  of  Albany,  be- 
sides three  Troy  companies,  the  Citizens'  Corps,  the 
Independent  Artillery,  and  the  City  Guards.  The  various 
bodies  of  troops  were  ordered  to  move  at  once  and  rein- 
forcements from  the  Mohawk  Valley  were  held  in  readiness 
to  arrive  if  needed. 

In  the  morning  a  proclamation  was  issued  by  the  Gover- 
nor enjoining  upon  the  people  of  the  country  "to  aid 
and  assist  the  officers  of  justice  in  performing  their  duty," 
and  appealing  to  all  who  had  taken  part  in  the  unlawful 
proceedings  to  reflect  upon  their  consequences  and  re- 
member that  organized  insurrection,  in  our  republic,  is 
absurd  and  unnecessary.  The  lawful  means  to  obtain 
relief  from  any  injuries  or  grievances  are  to  appeal  to  the 
courts  and  the  Legislature,  which  are  open  to  all  the  citi- 
zens of  a  self-governing  State.  He  further  added:  "I 
assure  them  that  they  shall  receive  every  facility  which 
the  executive  department  can  afford  in  bringing  their 
complaints  before  the  Legislature.  I  enjoin  upon  them 
to  conduct  and  demean  themselves  as  orderly,  peaceable, 
and  well  disposed  citizens,  justly  estimating  the  invalu- 
able privileges  they  enjoy,  and  knowing  that  the  only 
security  for  the  preservation  of  their  rights  consists  in 
the  complete  ascendancy  of  the  laws." 

As  I  heard  this  proclamation  copied  and  read  by  the 
secretary,  and  was  permitted  to  affix  the  privy  seal  to  it, 
it  seemed  to  me  so  simple  and  plain  that  any  American 


UBMRY 


52  The  Helderberg  War 

schoolboy  ought  to  have  known  as  much  as  that.  I  won- 
dered at  the  ignorance  of  the  country  people.  It  was  my 
first  experience — often  repeated  since — of  discovering 
that  even  American  citizens  do  not  always  remember  the 
fundamental  principles  of  their  own  government. 

The  troops  moved  with  a  celerity  worthy  of  veterans. 
It  was  on  Tuesday  morning  that  their  orders  were  issued, 
and  before  noon  the  Troy  companies  passed  through 
Albany  on  their  way  "to  the  front,"  and  were  furnished 
with  two  field  pieces  from  the  arsenal.  The  proclamation 
was  published  in  all  the  newspapers  and  copies  were 
struck  off  in  handbill  form,  which  the  troops  scattered 
broadcast  in  the  insurrectionary  regions. 

While  the  Governor  was  sitting  at  breakfast  on  Thurs- 
day morning  a  bearer  of  military  dispatches  dashed  up 
to  his  door,  and  handed  him  a  packet  from  Major  Blood- 
good.  It  was  dated  at  the  headquarters  of  the  expedi- 
tionary force  at  Rensselaerville.  It  stated  that  he  had 
met  a  large  assemblage  of  people  at  Reidsville.  Halting 
on  the  hill  and  forming  his  force  in  solid  column,  he  had 
marched  into  the  midst  of  them,  and  told  the  Sheriff  to 
do  his  duty.  The  Sheriff  had  done  so,  served  his  process, 
and  had  taken  one  prisoner,  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
rear,  greatly  to  his  relief,  as  he  had  begged  for  quarter, 
under  the  impression  that  he  was  to  be  instantly  shot. 
The  Major  stated  that  the  appearance  of  the  troops  and 
the  knowledge  of  reinforcements  hurrying  forward  had 
made  such  an  impression  upon  the  inhabitants  that  there 
was  no  longer  danger  to  his  command,  that  the  troops 
would  continue  with  the  Sheriff  and  enable  him  to  execute 
his  process  as  they  passed  through  the  country. 

Meanwhile  there  came  to  the  Executive  Mansion  a 
letter,  from  Azor  Taber  and  Henry  G.  Wheaton,  saying 
that  leading  citizens  of  the  towns  where  the  disturbance 
existed  had  come  in,  to  ask  those  gentlemen  to  make 


An  Artistic  Contest  53 

representations  in  their  behalf  to  the  Governor.  They 
were  desirous  to  avail  themselves  of  the  occasion  pre- 
sented by  his  proclamation  to  end  the  difficulties.  They 
requested  Messrs.  Taber  and  Wheaton  to  assure  the 
Governor  that  all  resistance  to  the  Sheriff  should  cease, 
and  that  the  assemblage  of  people  should  quietly  disperse. 

Dispatches  continued  to  come  during  Thursday  and 
Friday  and  Saturday  of  similar  tenor. 

Sunday  morning  there  was  a  heavy  snowstorm.  In 
the  midst  of  it,  and  while  the  bells  were  ringing  for  church, 
the  sound  of  drums  was  heard  approaching  on  the  hill 
beyond  the  Capitol.  It  was  the  returning  force  who, 
wrapped  in  their  blankets,  had  marched  twelve  miles 
since  daybreak,  plodding  through  the  drifting  snow  and 
bringing  their  three  prisoners  in  a  wagon. 

The  Governor  sprang  into  his  sleigh,  taking  me  with 
him,  and  drove  up  State  Street.  He  met,  received,  and 
welcomed  the  troops,  under  the  shelter  of  the  Schenectady 
Railway  Depot,  and  thanked  them  for  their  good  conduct 
and  patriotism.  They  cheered  him  in  return,  and  marched 
to  their  respective  armories.  So  ended  the  first  campaign 
of  the  "Helderbarrack." 

1843. 

An  Artistic  Contest.  The  Governor's  Room  in  the 
City  Hall  of  New  York  is  so  called,  because,  in  accordance 
with  time-honoured  custom,  it  has  been  used  as  an  official 
reception  room  for  governors  of  the  State  when  they  visit 
the  city,  and  has  been  the  repository  of  portraits  of  former 
governors  from  George  Clinton  down. 

The  Common  Council,  in  1843,  desired  to  add  to  this 
collection  a  full-length  portrait  of  my  father.  But  no 
artist  had  been  designated,  there  being  divided  opinions 
as  to  their  respective  merits. 

So,  after  visiting  many  different  studios,  a  committee 


54  An  Artistic  Contest 

consisting  of  Messrs.  Minturn,  Draper,  Ruggles,  Grinnell, 
Blatchford,  and  others  concluded  to  gratify  all  the  con- 
flicting preferences  by  inviting  five  artists — Inman, 
Harding,  Huntington,  Page,  and  Gray — each  to  paint  a 
portrait  of  the  ex-Governor.  The  Common  Council 
might  select  whichever  it  chose,  and  his  personal  friends 
would  themselves  take  the  others. 

In  accordance  with  this  arrangement,  Chester  Harding 
was  to  begin;  he  arrived  at  Auburn  early  in  March  and 
was  a  guest  at  my  father's  house,  where  he  was  also  a 
genial  and  hearty  companion. 

His  studio  on  Main  Street  became  a  favourite  re- 
sort for  the  little  circle  at  Auburn  who  were  interested 
in  art.  His  pictures  and  his  conversation  won  the  esteem 
of  the  villagers,  and  parties  were  made  in  his  honour. 
Harding's  massive  figure  seemed  as  if  fitted  for  athletic 
exercise.  It  would  have  befitted  a  commanding  general; 
he  was  six  feet  three  inches  high,  with  a  large  face,  hands 
too  large  for  ordinary  gloves,  eyes  too  broadly  separated 
for  ordinary  spectacles.  He  was  a  fine  looking  man,  of 
evident  vigour  and  energy,  but  the  last  person  a  casual 
observer  would  suspect  of  delicate  handling  of  palette  and 
pencil.  Harding  completed  his  work  in  July,  and  took 
his  leave. 

A  few  days  later  Henry  Inman  arrived,  to  enter  upon 
his  work.  He  was  high  in  public  esteem,  occupying  the 
first  rank  among  American  artists.  He  showed  in  every 
look  and  action  the  fruits  of  a  life  of  artistic  culture,  ease, 
and  taste.  Graceful  and  engaging  in  his  manners,  fluent 
and  imaginative  in  his  conversation,  he  had  almost  a 
boyish  fondness  for  fun,  and  a  keen  eye  for  the  beauties 
of  nature. 

He  had  not  been  an  hour  in  the  house  before  it  seemed  as 
if  he  were  an  old  acquaintance.  He  told  me  that  he  would 
go  out  with  me  into  the  morello  cherry  trees,  whose 


An  Artistic  Contest  55 

fruit  was  just  hanging  red  and  ripe,  and  promised  my 
brother  that  he  would  go  with  him  to  the  Owasco  Lake 
for  boating  and  perch  fishing,  both  of  which  promises  he 
fulfilled  before  the  week  was  out. 

"Music,  Mr.  Seward,"  said  he,  as  he  was  sketching 
the  outlines  of  my  father's  face  in  crayon,  "music  I  think 
must  be  the  vernacular  in  Heaven.  They  may  have  some 
other  language  for  grave,  intellectual,  and  religious  topics, 
but  for  the  small  talk  I  think  they  probably  use  music — 
now,  Mr.  Seward,  wait  one  moment  before  you  answer. 
I  want  to  catch  that  expression  I  see  on  your  face,  before 
you  move  a  muscle." 

The  Episcopal  Convention  of  the  new  diocese  of  Western 
New  York  held  its  session  in  Auburn  during  August. 
For  a  week  the  village  was  full  of  clergymen.  It  happened 
also  to  be  the  anniversary  week  of  the  Presbyterian 
Seminary,  and  it  was  remarked  that  nearly  every  other 
man  you  met  in  the  streets  had  spectacles  or~a  white 
cravat.  Said  one,  "  I  see,  Governor,  that  you  are  being 
painted  in  a  white  cravat;  are  you  adopting  the  theolog- 
ical custom?" 

"No,"  said  he,  "that  is  the  artist's  taste."  Inman 
added:  "I  never  paint  a  man  in  a  black  cravat  if  I  can 
help  it.  On  canvas,  especially  with  a  dark  background, 
it  looks  as  if  his  head  was  cut  off." 

Inman  remained  two  or  three  weeks  in  Auburn  and 
finished  the  "study,"  from  which  the  full-length  portrait 
for  the  City  Hall  was  to  be  painted.  This  "study"  still 
hangs  in  the  parlour  at  Auburn,  in  its  original  place. 

Sometime  later  the  committee  of  the  Common  Council 
met,  who  were  to  decide  about  the  portrait,  but  they  were 
divided  in  opinion  between  that  of  Harding  and  that  of 
Inman.  Both  were  so  excellent  that,  after  careful  exami- 
nation and  comparison  of  views,  they  declared  themselves 
unable  to  say  that  either  was  better  than  the  other. 


56         John  Quincy  Adams  at  Auburn 

When  this  was  announced  to  the  artists,  Inman  with 
his  usual  cheerful  vivacity  laughed  and  said  to  Harding: 

"Well,  we  shall  have  to  settle  this  ourselves.  Let  us 
toss  up  for  it?" 

Harding  assented,  and  Inman,  drawing  a  half  dollar 
from  his  pocket,  threw  it  up  in  the  air,  saying,  "Heads  or 
tails?" 

Heads  came  up  and  Inman  won. 

His  picture  was  formally  turned  over  to  the  Common 
Council,  and  it  still  hangs  in  the  Governor's  Room. 

The  friends  who  had  originated  the  competition  had 
already  determined  that  whichever  picture  was  not  taken 
by  the  city,  they  would  purchase,  and  present  to  my 
father's  children;  they  did  so,  and  Harding's  portrait 
was  intrusted  to  the  care  of  Seth  C.  Hawley  until  the 
children  should  grow  up. 

In  due  time  it  was  delivered  according  to  this  arrange- 
ment. 

It  hung  in  my  house  at  Albany  during  my  residence 
there.  When  I  moved  to  Washington,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Campbell,  on  behalf  of  the  trustees  of  the  State  Library, 
asked  that  it  might  be  left  at  Albany  until  my  return. 
For  many  years  it  occupied  the  central  place  in  the  row 
of  portraits  at  the  library. 

When  the  old  library  building  was  finally  torn  down  to 
make  room  for  the  new  Capitol,  it  was  transferred  to  the 
Executive  Chamber  in  that  building,  and  there  it  still 

hangs. 

1843. 

John  Quincy  Adams  at  Auburn.  In  the  summer  of 
1843,  John  Quincy  Adams  was  visiting  Niagara  Falls. 
When  news  came  that  the  venerable  ex-President  would 
return  through  Western  New  York,  my  father,  who  had 
been  for  so  many  years  one  of  his  political  disciples,  sug- 
gested that  he  should  be  received  with  suitable  demon- 


John  Quincy  Adams  at  Auburn          57 

strations  of  welcome.  The  suggestion,  however,  was 
hardly  needed,  for  the  western  part  of  the  State  was  full 
of  his  admirers,  some  dating  back  to  the  time  when  he 
was  a  presidential  candidate;  others  more  recently  en- 
listed under  his  banner  as  defender  of  the  Right  of  Petition. 

At  Buffalo  he  was  received  with  a  public  demonstration 
and  an  address  by  Mr.  Fillmore,  at  Rochester  with  a  pro- 
cession, and  at  Canandaigua  with  an  address  by  Francis 
Granger. 

My  father  and  grandfather  went  over  there  to  meet  him. 
Arriving  at  Auburn  in  the  evening  he  was  met  by  a  torch- 
light procession,  which  escorted  him  to  our  house,  where 
he  was  introduced  to  the  people  and  addressed  them 
briefly  from  the  steps.  Much  fatigued,  he  declined  eating, 
drank  a  glass  of  wine,  and  retired  to  his  room  as  soon  as 
prepared.  At  five  o'clock  the  next  morning  he  rose,  and 
at  six  went  over  to  visit  the  State  Prison,  returning  to 
breakfast  at  eight. 

The  conversation  turned  naturally  upon  the  condition 
of  public  affairs  and  the  political  outlook.  The  question 
of  slavery  having  been  broached,  the  customary  opinion  of 
the  times  was  expressed  by  one  of  the  guests,  that  the 
institution  was  a  colonial  inheritance  from  Great  Britain, 
incongruous  with  our  republican  system,  which  must 
eventually  disappear.  To  this  Mr.  Adams  seemed  to  as- 
sent. One  of  the  gentlemen  said:  "  But  do  you  not  think, 
Mr.  Adams,  that  it  will  be  peacefully  and  legally  abolished 
— perhaps  twenty,  perhaps  fifty  years  hence?"  Mr. 
Adams  had  sat  with  head  bent  forward,  apparently  in 
reverie.  The  inquiry  roused  him  in  a  moment.  With 
a  keen  glance  at  the  speaker,  he  said:  "I  used  to  think  so, 
but  I  do  not  now.  /  am  satisfied  that  it  will  not  go  down 
until  it  goes  down  in  blood!11 

A  pause  ensued  and  then  somebody  remembered  that 
it  was  time  to  proceed  to  the  church,  where  Mr.  Adams 


58          John  Quincy  Adams  at  Auburn 

was  to  have  a  formal  public  reception  at  nine  o'clock. 
The  citizens  of  Auburn  and  their  families  had  already  filled 
the  church  to  overflowing. 

The  ceremonies  at  the  church  were  simple.  An  address 
of  welcome  by  my  father,  in  behalf  of  his  townsmen,  was 
followed  by  suitable  response  from  Mr.  Adams,  expressing 
his  thanks  for  the  courtesy  shown  him,  his  good  wishes 
for  the  future  of  the  village  and  its  citizens,  but  without 
touching  upon  any  of  the  public  questions  of  the  day.  A 
short  time  was  then  spent  in  introductions,  shaking  hands, 
and  conversation.  The  hour  fixed  for  his  departure  drew 
near,  and  at  eleven  he  left  the  railroad  station  in  a  special 
train,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  gathered  crowd. 

"Governor,"  said  a  friend,  a  short  time  afterward  when 
some  allusion  was  made  to  the  startling  remark  in  regard 
to  slavery,  "Mr.  Adams  is  a  very  great  man,  but  he  is 
growing  old.  Don't  you  think  he  is  rather  despondent, 
• — discouraged  perhaps,  by  what  he  sees  at  Washington?" 

"I  think,"  was  the  answer,  "that  he  is  wiser  than  any 
of  us  on  that  subject;  but  I  shall  not  give  up  my  hope  of 
a  peaceful  solution,  so  long  as  any  such  solution  is  possible. 
At  any  rate  it  is  our  duty  to  labour  for  such  a  one." 

Mr.  Adams,  after  leaving  Auburn,  was  received  with 
ovations  along  the  entire  route.  The  Whigs  hoisted  flags 
in  honour  of  his  coming  and  had  special  ceremonies  of 
reception  at  Herkimer,  Little  Falls,  and  Schenectady. 
He  reached  Boston  three  or  four  days  later. 

A  characteristic  expression  of  a  steamboat  captain  with 
whom  he  travelled  illustrated  the  popular  feeling.  He 
said:  "  Oh,  if  you  could  only  take  the  engine  out  of  the  old 
Adams,  and  put  it  into  a  new  hull ! " 

1845. 

Entering  College.  There  is  a  fascination  to  every  boy 
in  the  idea  of  "going  to  college."  However  pleasant  his 


Entering  College  59 

home,  he  has  a  natural  desire  to  enter  into  the  life  of  that 
microcosm  which  is  supposed  to  separate  boyhood  from 
manhood.  Usually,  it  is  neither  the  studies  nor  the  sports 
which  are  the  chief  attraction,  but  rather  the  indefinable 
longing  to  mingle  with  others,  each  of  whom  is  also  learn- 
ing how  to  be  "a  man  among  men."  At  least  that  was 
my  case.  My  lot  in  childhood  had  been  cast  in  pleasant 
places,  guarded  with  sedulous  care,  and  cheered  by  every 
reasonable  indulgence;  and  yet  I  was  quite  ready,  when 
the  time  came,  to  go  out  to  seek  adventures  in  college 
halls.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  I  had  accompanied  the  pious 
^Eneas  in  his  voyages  to  the  end  of  his  twelfth  book  of 
hexameters,  had  dipped  into  the  Greek  Testament,  and 
pursued  the  Arabic  numerals  as  far  as  the  Rule  of  Three — 
and  so  believed  myself  fit  to  be  a  freshman. 

Union  College  had  been  my  father's  Alma  Mater.  Dr. 
Nott,  who  was  his  preceptor  there,  and  had  been  his  guide, 
philosopher,  and  friend  ever  since,  was  still  hale  and  vigor- 
ous and,  as  President,  was  still  dispensing  instruction  and 
discipline  to  another  generation.  So  I  was  sent  to  become 
a  student  at  "Old  Union." 

I  well  remember  the  thrill  of  pleasurable  excitement  when 
I  donned  my  first  frock  coat,  put  on  my  first  high  hat  and 
standing  collar,  and  heard  myself  accosted  as  "Mr.  Sew- 
ard."  No  more  "roundabouts,"  no  more  of  the  enforced 
tedium  of  the  schoolroom,  or  the  noisy  fun  of  the  play- 
ground. Majora  canamus. 

My  father  accompanied  me  on  the  train  to  Schenectady. 
On  the  way  down  the  Mohawk  Valley  various  passengers 
came  to  talk  to  him.  Among  them  was  a  young  man  who, 
like  myself,  had  a  very  youthful  face  surmounted  by  a 
very  elderly  hat,  with  standing  collar  and  frock  coat  like 
my  own.  He  introduced  himself  as  a  son  of  Senator  Hard, 
and  I  was  not  surprised  to  learn  that  he  was  also  on  his 
way  to  the  college.  We  speedily  became  intimate  friends. 


60  Entering  College 

He  was  in  the  senior  class,  and  his  superior  wisdom  and 
experience  enabled  him  to  give  me  much  useful  informa- 
tion in  regard  to  my  fellow  students  and  instructors,  and 
the  routine  of  college  life.  When  we  arrived  at  Schenec- 
tady,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  group  of  other  students 
at  the  station,  whose  jocose  remarks  to  each  other,  and 
easy  self-possession  in  the  presence  of  their  elders,  seemed 
to  me  quite  worthy  of  emulation. 

We  proceeded  leisurely  up  Union  Street,  my  father 
pointing  out  scenes  recalling  incidents  of  his  own  college 
days,  and  arrived  at  last  at  the  grey  old  buildings  "on 
the  Hill."  Our  first  visit  was  to  President  Nott,  and  our 
next,  by  his  advice,  to  Professor  Reed,  at  whose  house 
the  Examining  Board  was  in  session.  Both  the  venerable 
President  and  the  genial  Professor  of  Greek  had  been  fre- 
quent visitors  in  Albany.  The  examination  proved  satis- 
factory and  not  very  severe.  As  one  of  my  new  college 
friends  had  told  me,  "A  freshman  isn't  expected  to  know 
much  at  the  beginning  of  his  year,  but  he'll  know  lots 
more  at  the  end  of  it." 

Presenting  my  certificates  and  paying  the  entrance  fee 
to  the  Registrar,  Alexander  Holland,  my  name  was  entered 
in  the  great  book,  and  I  was  informed  that  I  was  duly 
"matriculated."  A  key  was  handed  me  as  that  of  a  room 
on  the  second  floor  in  the  South  College,  thenceforth  to 
be  my  home.  Brick  flooring  and  heavy  oak  stairs  led  up 
to  it.  The  walls  were  whitewashed,  the  floors  bare,  and 
the  woodwork  of  the  plainest  kind,  but  abundantly 
ornamented  by  the  carved  initials  of  previous  tenants, 
which  were  also  inscribed  on  some  of  the  panes  of  glass 
in  the  window.  So  far  from  regarding  these  as  defects,  it 
pleased  my  fancy  to  believe  that  they  indicated  "fellows" 
having  a  good  time,  and  not  subjected  to  overmuch  in- 
spection or  restraint. 

A  cot  and  bedding,  a  table  and  chairs,  a  washstand  and 


Entering  College  6r 

its  appurtenances,  an  oil  lamp  and  a  small  looking-glass 
were  speedily  purchased  at  a  shop  in  the  town.  The  shop- 
keeper promised  to  send  them  up  immediately.  My  father 
told  him  to  send  the  larger  articles,  adding  that  we  would 
carry  up  the  small  ones  ourselves.  So,  taking  the  pitcher 
in  his  hand,  he  gave  me  the  lamp  and  looking-glass,  and 
we  marched  up  Union  Street  again.  On  the  way  we  met 
Professor  Reed,  driving  out  with  his  family.  "Why, 
Governor,"  said  he,  "you  look  as  if  you  were  going  to 
housekeeping." 

"No,  I  am  not,"  was  the  reply,  "but  Frederick  is,  and 
I  thought  that  if  he  saw  me  carrying  things  through  the 
street  of  Schenectady,  he  would  probably  never  be  afraid 
or  ashamed  to  do  it  himself." 

We  spent  the  next  day  in  Albany,  and  when  I  returned 
in  the  evening,  after  taking  leave  of  my  father,  I  entered 
my  room,  and  found  all  my  new  furniture  piled  up  in  a 
heap  in  the  centre.  I  had  not  provided  such  trivial 
necessaries  as  oil  and  matches,  and  so,  groping  in  the  dark 
for  enough  to  make  a  bed  on  the  floor,  I  slept  soundly 
till  daybreak. 

At  half -past  five  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door  roused 
me.  Opening  it,  I  met  the  good-humoured  face  of  an 
Irishman  who  informed  me  that  he  was  "  Pat,"  and  that  he 
had  charge  of  the  rooms.  He  gave  me  the  further  informa- 
tion that  the  chapel  bell  at  the  West  College  would  ring 
at  six,  and  a  second  time  twenty  minutes  later,  and  then 
be  immediately  followed  by  the  roll-call.  As  the  West 
College  was  down  in  the  town,  and  nearly  a  mile  away,  I 
hastened  my  toilet,  to  arrive  in  time. 

The  West  College,  I  found,  was  a  substantial  old  brick 
building,  that  had  once  been  a  school,  and  once  served  as 
a  town  hall.  It  was  now  the  abode  of  the  freshmen  and 
sophomores — the  buildings  on  "the  Hill"  being  entirely 
filled  by  the  senior  and  junior  classmen.  In  a  large  and 


62  Entering  College 

rather  dingy-looking  chapel  I  saw  my  future  classmates 
ranged  in  a  row.  There  were  but  eighteen  of  us  in  all. 
But  on  the  other  side  of  the  chapel  there  was  a  larger  row 
of  sixty  or  seventy  sophomores.  Some  had  the  dress  and 
air  of  cultivated  young  gentlemen;  others  had  not  yet 
discarded  the  look  of  rustic  schoolboys. 

We  all  listened  intently  to  the  roll-call,  not  only  to 
answer  to  our  own  names,  but  to  learn  the  names  of  the 
others.  I  think  we  hardly  gave  due  attention  to  the 
brief  religious  services,  as  we  were  eagerly  scanning  the 
ranks,  and  wondering  what  sort  of  fellows  we  should  find 
each  other  to  be.  All  things  seem  possible  to  the  youth- 
ful imagination;  so  I  suppose  that  if  I  had  that  morning 
been  told  that  one  of  my  fellow-students  in  that  chapel 
was  destined  to  be  a  general,  another  a  senator,  another 
a  judge,  another  a  bishop,  another  to  be  a  cabinet  minister, 
and  another  to  be  president  of  the  United  States,  I  should 
not  have  been  at  all  surprised.  But  we  all  should  have 
been  much  surprised,  if  we  had  been  told  upon  which 
ones  those  destined  honours  were  to  fall. 

A  short  recitation  followed,  and  then  we  dispersed  to 
our  respective  breakfasts,  and  on  the  way  began  our 
mutual  acquaintance,  without  much  formality  of  intro- 
ductions. 

As  my  room  was  on  "the  Hill"  and  my  class  at  the 
West  College,  it  necessitated  walking  three  times  back 
and  forth  between  them.  But  this  six-mile  walk  I  soon 
learned  to  consider  no  hardship,  and  it  doubtless  largely 
contributed  to  my  rapid  improvement  in  health,  strength, 
and  growth,  for,  having  been  rather  a  puny  lad,  I  was 
now  attaining  a  height  of  nearly  six  feet. 

There  was  a  further  advantage  in  the  fact  that  I  was 
thus  thrown  into  relations  with  the  freshmen  and  sopho- 
mores during  part  of  the  day,  and  with  the  juniors  and 
seniors  during  the  other  part,  thus  enlarging  my  acquaint- 


Entering  College  63 

ance,  and  allowing  me  to  profit  by  the  experiences  of  the 
men  of  all  classes. 

The  professors  and  tutors  treated  us  all  courteously, 
and  gave  us  instruction  in  their  respective  departments. 
But  matters  of  conduct  and  discipline  were  left  almost 
wholly  to  the  President — or  "Old  Prex,"  as  we  used  to 
call  him.  We  believed  then,  and  I  am  of  the  same  opinion 
still,  that  for  this  work  he  was  peculiarly  gifted  and  quali- 
fied. His  profound  and  sympathetic  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  his  wise  judgment,  good  humour,  and  good  sense, 
enabled  him  to  win  not  merely  respect  but  affection. 
His  chief  aim  seemed  to  be  to  cultivate  and  encourage 
the  student's  self-reliance  and  sense  of  personal  responsi- 
bility— so  as  to  fit  him  to  become  a  good  citizen  and  a 
practical  man  of  affairs.  Doubtless  he  watched  over  us 
with  paternal  care,  but  if  there  was  espionage  we  never 
knew  it;  if  there  was  advice,  it  was  sound;  if  there  was 
reproof,  it  was  deserved.  Discipline  there  was,  but  never 
harsh  or  unjust. 

Not  only  the  curriculum  of  our  studies,  but  our 
organization  of  societies,  debates,  meetings,  and  elec- 
tions were  no  bad  preparation  for  similar  work  in  later 
life. 

The  tone  of  the  student  body  was  such  as  might  be 
expected.  We  felt  ourselves  to  be  no  longer  schoolboys. 
Mischievous  pranks  were  tolerated,  but  not  applauded 
nor  imitated.  There  was  a  strong  esprit  de  corps.  New- 
comers were  treated  with  kindness;  old  graduates  with 
high  regard.  Of  course  there  were  students  who  were 
inclined  to  dissipation  and  idleness;  but  these  were  the 
exceptions,  not  the  rule.  There  was  a  sort  of  latent  feeling 
that  it  behooved  a  student  at  "Old  Union"  to  act  like 
a  man  and  behave  like  a  gentleman. 

Athletic  games  and  sports  were  not  yet  in  fashion. 
Yet  we  thought  we  had  plenty  of  opportunity  for  outdoor 


64  Entering  College 

exercise,  whether  walking,  riding,  rowing,  swimming, 
boxing,  or  fencing. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  have  a  seat  at  Dr.  Nott's 
table,  and  to  that  extent  I  became  an  inmate  of  his  family 
circle.  It  was  a  large  one,  comprising  not  only  his  family, 
but  the  sons  of  several  of  his  intimate  friends.  As  he 
sat  benignly  at  the  head  of  the  table,  there  was  nothing 
of  the  stern  pedagogue  or  the  morose  invalid  in  his  manner. 
He  was  rather  the  genial  host,  the  wise  and  kindly  grand- 
father, always  cheerful  and  interesting.  Our  undergrad- 
uate talk  was  naturally  of  college  themes  and  gossip, 
but  we  were  speedily  lifted  out  of  that,  to  the  discussion 
of  the  broader  topics  of  the  day.  He  would  say: 

"Clarkson,  what  do  the  papers  say  this  morning  about 
the  revolutionists  in  Paris?  Are  the  students  there  still 
singing  the  Marseillaise,  and  throwing  up  barricades  in 
the  streets?" 

"Howard,  my  son,  how  are  they  getting  on  at  the 
Novelty  Works,  with  that  newly  invented  cut-off  valve 
for  the  steam  engine?" 

"Mr.  Perry,  your  German  friends  seem  to  be  announc- 
ing some  almost  incredible  theories  about  the  connection 
of  electricity  with  animal  life." 

"Mr.  Whitridge,  have  you  noticed  those  remarkable 
discoveries  of  paintings  in  the  recent  excavations  at 
Pompeii?" 

"Frederick,  what  do  you  hear  from  your  brother  with 
the  army  in  Mexico?  I  hope  they  are  going  to  make 
peace  down  there  before  long." 

"Yes,  John,  tirosh  is  the  Hebrew  word  for  the  unfer- 
mented  juice  of  the  grape.  But  you  won't  find  any  of 
it  in  the  Schenectady  bar-rooms.  They  only  sell  the 
intoxicating  yayin,  and  even  that  I  believe  is  adulterated." 

I  think  he  liked  to  draw  out  our  crude  opinions  on  these 
and  kindred  topics.  There  was  an  amused  twinkle  in 


Entering  College  65 

his  eye  as  he  listened  to  them,  but  there  was  no  parade 
of  superior  knowledge  in  his  comments.  His  sound 
maxims  and  humorous  illustrations  would  illuminate  the 
whole  subject,  and,  unconsciously  to  ourselves,  we  were 
gaining  as  much  instruction  at  every  meal  as  from  any 
recitation  in  the  classroom. 

We  did  not  realize  then,  as  we  have  since,  that  we  were 
being  led  up  from  the  realm  of  small  talk  to  that  of  intel- 
ligent observation  of  the  world's  progress  in  civilization 
and  enlightenment. 

The  study  at  Union  that  was  of  prime  importance  in 
those  days  was  known  as  "  Kames."  It  was  the  afternoon 
lecture  or  recitation  of  the  senior  class,  in  which  Dr.  Nott 
was  the  preceptor.  It  was  based  upon  Kames's  Elements 
of  Criticism.  But  Lord  Kames  himself  would  have 
rubbed  his  eyes  in  astonishment,  if  he  could  have  seen 
and  heard  the  use  that  was  made  of  his  book.  He  would 
have  found  it  so  amplified  and  expanded  that,  instead  of 
a  compend  of  aesthetics,  it  had  become  a  comprehensive 
study  of  human  nature,  ranging  over  the  whole  field  of 
physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  philosophy,  and  applied 
to  practical  use  in  business,  politics,  and  religion.  Usually 
this  afternoon  session  took  the  form  of  a  monologue  by 
Dr.  Nott,  replete  with  wit  and  wisdom,  but  varied  occa- 
sionally by  question  or  dialogue,  to  keep  up  individual 
attention  in  the  class.  We  were  taught  the  analysis  of 
human  emotions  and  passions — how  to  control  our  own, 
how  to  deal  with  the  manifestation  of  them  by  others, 
how  to  choose  the  modes  of  expression  and  the  rules  for 
conduct  of  life  that  would  enable  each  to  use  his  natural 
powers  to  the  best  advantage.  Quotations  from  authors 
and  illustrations  from  history  and  from  the  Doctor's  own 
experience  lent  the  whole  a  fascinating  interest. 

There  was  a  pocket  pamphlet  surreptitiously  printed 
and  circulated  in  the  class,  that  was  called  "Little  Kames." 
* 


66  Entering  College 

It  contained  an  abstract  of  each  chapter,  thus  saving  the 
indolent  student  the  labour  of  studying.  Dr.  Nott  knew 
of  the  practice  but  never  positively  forbade  it.  He  used 
to  say  the  big  book  was  better  than  the  little  primer,  but 
the  little  one  was  better  than  nothing. 

He  would  say:  "Someone  in  the  class,  I  suppose,  has 
a  copy  of  it  in  his  pocket.  Take  it  out,  my  son,  and  read 
what  the  author  says  on  the  point  we  have  been  discuss- 
ing. No,  I  don't  want  you  to  repeat  his  words  by  rote. 
If  you  do,  you  may  think  it  is  an  infallible  rule,  and  per- 
haps it  isn't.  I  want  you  to  read  it  over  carefully,  and  then 
think  for  yourself  whether  the  author  is  right  or  wrong. 
You  can  get  a  good  deal  of  instruction  out  of  a  book  that 
you  don't  entirely  agree  with.  If  you  wish  to  commit 
universal  truths  to  memory,  take  up  your  Bible  or  Shake- 
speare. You  will  find  more  of  them  there  than  anywhere 
else." 

The  ringing  of  the  chapel  bell  at  five  o'clock  brought 
the  lecture  to  an  end.  But  all  graduates  of  that  period 
remember  their  "Kames."  Many  a  clergyman,  many  an 
author,  many  a  lawyer  and  statesman  has  found  that 
Dr.  Nott  and  "Kames"  have  given  him  the  solution  of 
some  of  the  most  perplexing  problems  of  his  life. 

When  the  students  among  themselves  spoke  of  "  Old 
Prex,"  it  was  not  in  tones  of  disrespect,  but  rather  those 
of  friendly  regard.  They  looked  after  his  stately  figure 
whenever  it  appeared  in  chapel  or  on  the  campus  with 
affectionate  admiration,  from  the  first  day  when  they  saw 
him  driving  his  three-wheeled  carriage,  to  the  last  one 
when  he  put  on  his  three-cornered  hat  to  distribute  their 
diplomas  on  Commencement  Day. 

Leaving  College.  The  last  days  at  college  bring  as 
vivid  a  memory  to  the  mind  of  the  "alumnus"  as  the 
opening  ones.  Each  period  marks  an  era  in  his  life. 


Leaving  College  67 

When  the  inevitable  "Commencement"  (which  is  also 
the  ending)  of  our  college  life  begins  to  loom  up  in  the  near 
future,  we  of  the  senior  class  begin  to  realize  that  we  are 
about  to  leave  tried  friends  and  familiar  scenes,  and  may 
have  to  encounter  others  that  may  prove  far  less  enjoyable. 

We  have  reached  the  top  of  the  present  ladder,  and 
are  to  begin  at  the  bottom  of  the  next  one.  Our  studies 
are  no  longer  onerous,  and  we  no  longer  fear  "exams." 
Having  learned  all  that  there  is  to  know  in  the  "curricu- 
lum," we  feel  that  we  have  attained  a  state  of  wisdom 
and  dignity  almost,  if  not  quite,  equal  to  that  of  the 
Faculty.  We  are  confirmed  in  this  opinion  by  the  high 
respect  and  deference  shown  to  us  by  the  members  of  the 
lower  classes. 

Contrary  to  what  might  be  expected,  we  talk  but  little 
of  our  plans  for  our  future  lives  and  careers  in  the  world 
of  maturity.  We  have  plenty  of  plans  and  projects  but 
their  details  are  hazy  and  uncertain.  Our  immediate 
topics  of  conversation  are  the  things  to  be  done  at  and 
about  Commencement  time.  There  is  an  undertone  of 
regret  at  our  approaching  separation. 

"Seward,"  said  Charles  Nott  to  me,  one  day,  "these 
fellows  are  exchanging  daguerreotypes,  and  promising 
to  go  to  see  each  other,  and  to  write  each  other  once  a 
fortnight.  Of  course  they  won't  do  it,  or  can't  do  it — 
at  any  rate,  not  long.  Then  coolness  and  distance  will 
supervene,  and  they  will  drift  apart.  What  shall  we  do 
about  corresponding  with  each  other?" 

"Suppose,"  I  answered,  "that  we  make  a  promise  that 
we  can  keep.  Let  us  promise  never  to  write  to  each  other, 
except  on  business." 

"Agreed,"  said  he,  and  we  shook  hands  on  it. 

Sixty  years  have  elapsed  since  then,  and  the  Chief 
Justice  and  I  have  continued  our  uninterrupted  friend- 
ship. The  mutual  promise  has  been,  on  the  whole,  faith- 


68  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

fully  kept — though  the  "business"  has  sometimes  been 
rather  trivial.  But  such  a  promise  is  a  sheet  anchor  for 
good  understanding,  since  it  furnishes  an  all-sufficient 
explanation  for  any  apparent  forgetfulness  or  lack  of 
interest. 

1849-50. 

Washington  in  '49  and  '50.  The  Compromise  Debate. 
Fairly  started  as  a  law  student,  and  endeavouring  to 
master  that  abstruse  science  by  the  help  of  Blackstone, 
Kent,  and  divers  and  sundry  other  volumes  bound  in  for- 
midable "law-calf,"  and  even  trying  my  "prentice 
hand"  at  drawing  papers  for  actual  use  in  practice, 
the  study  of  my  profession  occupied  my  days,  until  it 
was  interrupted  for  the  winter  by  a  summons  to  Washing- 
ton to  become  a  private  secretary  of  my  father,  who  had 
now  been  elected  a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate. 

I  found  him  ensconced  in  his  new  home  on  F  Street. 
It  was  a  respectable,  unpretending  red  brick  structure, 
and  was  one  of  a  block  of  three  ordinary  city  houses,  each 
twenty-five  feet  wide  and  all  just  alike.  Near  the  Patent 
Office,  the  General  Post  Office,  and  the  shops  on  Seventh 
Street,  it  was  a  convenient  place  of  residence,  and  within 
walking  distance  of  the  Capitol.  Some  books  had  been 
sent  down  from  Auburn,  with  his  old  writing  chair.  His 
office,  or  study,  was  established  in  the  basement. 

Washington  in  1849  had  become  a  town  of  about  forty 
thousand  inhabitants,  either  connected  with  the  business 
of  government  themselves,  or  engaged  in  supplying  the 
needs  of  those  who  were.  It  was  in  its  least  attractive 
stage.  The  rural  beauty  of  its  youth  was  gone;  the 
tasteful  elegance  of  its  maturity  had  not  yet  come.  It 
was  still  the  "City  of  Magnificent  Distances."  Little 
else  about  it  was  magnificent.  The  white  fronts  of  the 
Capitol  and  the  Executive  Mansion  gleamed  through 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  69 

surrounding  foliage  at  each  end  of  "the  Avenue,"  the 
substantial  Post  Office  building  and  the  long  colonnade 
of  the  Treasury  looked  finished  and  imposing.  The  old 
brick  edifices  for  State,  War,  and  Navy  Departments  were 
still  standing.  The  Smithsonian  was  gradually  rising 
out  of  a  chaos  of  brick  and  freestone.  There  was  a  maze 
of  broad,  unpaved  streets,  dusty  in  summer,  muddy  in 
winter,  along  which  were  scattered  detached  houses  or 
straggling  rows  of  buildings.  Lamps  were  few.  Houses 
were  not  numbered,  and  the  visitor  who  wanted  to  find  a 
residence  had  to  depend  upon  the  hack-drivers,  whose 
method  of  memory  seemed  to  be  that  each  person  lived 
"just  a  little  way  from"  somewhere  else. 

Though  the  capital  of  the  nation,  it  was  in  all  social 
and  industrial  aspects  a  Southern  town.  The  slave  pen 
and  the  auction  block  were  prominent  on  a  public  thor- 
oughfare. Many  families  owned  slaves,  whom  they  used 
for  domestic  service  or  "hired  out"  to  perform  it  for 
others,  the  owner^  receiving  the  slave's  wages.  Society 
looked  upon  "Abolition"  with  dread  and  disgust. 

Not  only  in  Washington  but  throughout  the  country 
it  was  realized  that  the  coming  session  of  Congress  was 
likely  to  be  a  long  and  stormy  one.  Our  great  acquisition 
of  territory  from  Mexico,  after  the  Mexican  War,  had 
raised  the  question  whether  it  should  be  used  for  slave- 
holding  or  free  States. 

The  two  great  political  parties  had  commenced  to  dis- 
integrate on  that  issue.  The  Democrats  had  nominated 
General  Cass  and  the  Whigs  General  Taylor  for  the 
Presidency.  But  many  anti-slavery  men  of  both  parties 
withdrew  from  their  party  affiliations,  and  held  a  formid- 
able convention  at  Buffalo,  where  they  organized  a  "Free 
Soil"  party,  nominating  ex-President  Van  Buren  for 
President  and  Charles  Francis  Adams  for  Vice-President. 
The  three-sided  contest  thus  begun  resulted  in  the  election 


70  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

of  General  Taylor  and  a  Congress  embracing  all  the  war- 
ring elements. 

Meanwhile  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California  had  at- 
tracted thousands  of  new  settlers.  These  held  a  conven- 
tion and  adopted  a  "Free-State"  constitution,  which 
Congress  was  now  to  approve  or  reject. 

On  Monday,  the  3d  of  December,  the  flags  were  hoisted 
on  the  two  wings  of  the  Capitol.  The  Thirty-first  Con- 
gress began  its  session,  destined  to  be  a  memorable  one 
in  history.  Of  course  I  was  a  frequent  visitor,  to  avail 
myself  of  the  opportunity  to  look  down  upon  the  proceed- 
ings from  the  galleries. 

The  Senate  Chamber  of  that  period  was  the  room 
afterwards  occupied  by  the  Supreme  Court.  Semicircular 
in  form,  graceful  in  proportions,  with  its  dark  marble 
columns  and  crimson  hangings,  it  had  an  air  of  stately 
dignity,  more  impressive  to  the  spectator  in  the  narrow 
gallery  than  the  spacious,  easy,  and  comfortable  Chamber 
of  the  present  day.  Looking  down  upon  the  Senators, 
one  saw  many  that  were  already  famous.  On  the  right 
of  the  main  aisle  were  to  be  seen  the  massive  head  and 
deep-set  eyes  of  Webster,  the  tall  and  commanding  figure 
of  Clay,  the  dark  but  genial  face  of  Corwin,  the  white 
head  of  "Honest  John  Davis,"  the  calm  and  cautious 
visage  of  John  Bell,  the  scholarly  looking  head  of  Berrien, 
the  tall  forms  of  Mangum  and  Dayton,  and  the  merry 
smile  of  John  P.  Hale;  on  the  left,  the  portly  form  of 
General  Cass,  the  towering  bulk  of  General  Houston, 
ex-President  of  Texas,  the  classic  head  and  genial  face 
of  Colonel  Benton,  the  long,  grey  locks  and  sharp  attenu- 
ated features  of  Calhoun,  the  erect,  slender  figure  of 
Jefferson  Davis,  the  swarthy,  foreign-looking  face  of  Pierre 
Soule,  the  energetic,  black-clothed  "Little  Giant"  Doug- 
las, the  dark,  curling  locks  of  Hunter,  and  the  silver-haired 
familiar  face  of  Daniel  S.  Dickinson. 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  71 

As  a  new  Senator,  my  father's  choice  among  seats  was 
limited  to  such  as  were  vacant.  He  selected  one  on  the 
Whig  side,  but  soon  after  relinquished  it  to  oblige  Mr. 
Clay,  and  took  the  chair  on  Clay's  right  hand,  at  the 
extreme  end  of  the  back  or  outer  row  of  chairs.  This, 
however,  had  some  advantages.  It  was  remote  from  the 
noisy  main  entrance,  and  conveniently  near  the  private 
door,  for  conferences  with  friends  or  visitors.  The  Senate 
Chamber  was  not  so  large  but  that  every  member  could, 
without  difficulty,  catch  the  eye  of  the  presiding  officer 
and  be  heard  in  debate.  He  liked  the  place  so  well  that 
he  retained  it  during  most  of  his  Senatorial  term. 

Passing  over  now  to  the  other  wing  of  the  Capitol,  I 
entered  the  gallery  of  the  House  of  Representatives.  Here 
I  looked  down  upon  a  busy,  bustling  scene,  very  different 
from  the  quiet  dignity  of  the  Senate.  The  House  had 
commenced  its  session  with  a  struggle  over  the  Speaker- 
ship.  The  Whigs  had  nominated  Robert  C.  Winthrop 
of  Massachusetts.  The  Democrats  had  nominated  How- 
ell  Cobb  of  Georgia.  As  a  majority  of  the  whole  House 
was  required  to  elect  a  Speaker,  there  was  no  choice. 
Anti-slavery  men  were  baffied;  Southern  men  were  exult- 
ant. 

The  House  as  a  whole  contained  many  members  whose 
names  were  then,  or  have  since,  become  historic.  Massa- 
chusetts had  sent  Horace  Mann  and  Robert  C.  Winthrop ; 
Pennsylvania  had  Thaddeus  Stevens  and  David  Wilmot; 
North  Carolina,  Edward  Stanley;  Georgia  had  sent 
Alexander  H.  Stephens,  Robert  Toombs,  and  Thomas 
Butler  King;  Alabama,  Henry  W.  Hilliard;  Mississippi, 
Albert  J.  Brown  and  Jacob  Thompson;  Louisiana, 
Charles  W.  Conrad ;  Ohio  had  Joshua  R.  Giddings,  David 
A.  Carter,  Robert  C.  Schenck,  Samuel  F.  Vinton,  and 
Lewis  D.  Campbell;  Kentucky  had  Linn  Boyd;  Tennessee 
had  Andrew  Johnson  and  Frederick  P.  Stanton;  Illinois 


72  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

had  Edward  D.  Baker,  John  A.  McClernand,  and  John 
Wentworth;  Wisconsin  had  Charles  Durkee,  and  Min- 
nesota, Henry  K.  Sibley. 

The  New  York  delegation  was  a  strong  one  and  pre- 
sented many  faces  with  which  I  was  already  familiar. 
Of  the  thirty-four,  the  larger  part  were  Whigs.  Among 
them  were  John  A.  King,  Charles  E.  Clarke,  Harvey 
Putnam,  Elijah  Risley,  O.  B.  Matteson,  John  L.  School- 
craft,  William  A.  Sackett,  Elbridge  G.  Spaulding,  and  A. 
M.  Schermerhorn.  Among  the  Democrats  was  Preston 
King. 

Roll-call  after  roll-call  followed  each  other  in  tedious 
succession.  Nearly  three  weeks  were  consumed  in  fruit- 
less attempts  to  effect  a  choice.  Sixty-two  ballotings 
were  taken,  and  between  them  occurred  heated  debates 
and  recriminations.  One  day  an  Indiana  member  was 
nearly  elected  by  a  hasty  combination,  which  then  col- 
lapsed amid  great  excitement. 

At  last,  on  the  22d  of  December,  it  was  decided  to  let 
a  plurality  determine  the  result.  This  elected  Ho  well 
Cobb.  So  the  Democrats  had  control  of  both  Chambers. 
The  speakership  contest  having  been  settled  on  Saturday, 
the  President  was  informed  that  Congress  would  be  ready 
to  receive  his  message  on  Monday. 

President  Taylor  was  a  Southern  man  and  a  slaveholder. 
But  he  was  an  old  soldier,  intensely  loyal  to  the  Union, 
with  the  firmness  of  General  Jackson,  but  without  his 
stormy  temper.  General  Scott  used  to  say  that  when  he 
spoke  of  General  Taylor  as  "an  upright  man"  his  wife 
quickly  added,  "Yes,  and  a  downright  one."  My  father 
in  one  of  his  letters  to  Weed,  said:  "The  malcontents  of 
the  South  mean  to  be  factious,  and  they  expect  to  compel 
compromise.  I  think  the  President  is  as  willing  to  try 
conclusions  with  them  as  General  Jackson  was  with  the 
Nullifies." 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  73 

Monday  morning  the  message  was  received.  Of  course 
the  part  most  eagerly  listened  to,  as  it  was  read  from  the 
Clerk's  desk,  was  that  which  declared  the  President's 
policy  in  regard  to  the  new  Territories.  This  was  saga- 
cious and  clear.  Shortly  after  his  inauguration  he  had 
sent  out  to  the  Pacific  Coast  Thomas  Butler  King,  of 
Georgia,  to  invite  the  people  of  California  and  New  Mexico 
to  form  State  constitutions,  and  with  them  apply  for 
admission  to  the  Union.  This  was  the  "President's 
plan,"  and  it  seemed  to  be  a  more  speedy  and  practicable 
plan  than  either  the  plan  of  "disunion"  or  the  plan  of 
"compromise,"  especially  as  California  had  already  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  and  was  now  ready  to  present  herself 
at  the  door  of  Congress  with  a  "free-State  constitution." 
But  for  that  very  reason  it  was  not  satisfactory  to  those 
who  deemed  "an  equilibrium"  necessary,  between  free 
and  slaveholding  States,  nor  to  those  who  wanted  slavery 
extended.  My  father,  having  heartily  concurred  in  the 
President's  invitation  when  it  was  sent,  was  now  even 
more  heartily  disposed  to  approve  and  defend  its  results. 

The  deep  dissatisfaction  which  existed  in  the  South 
in  view  of  the  possibility  that  slaveholders  might  be  for- 
bidden to  take  their  slaves  to  California  was  manifested 
in  both  Chambers  nearly  every  day.  One  representative 
said:  "If  slavery  is  to  be  abolished  in  the  District,  or 
prohibited  in  the  Territories,  I  trust  in  God  that  my  eyes 
have  rested  on  the  last  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Represen- 
tatives." Another  said:  "I  do  not  hesitate  to  own, 
before  this  House  and  the  country,  and  in  the  presence  of  a 
living  God,  that  if,  by  your  legislation,  you  seek  to  drive  us 
from  the  Territories,  and  to  abolish  slavery  in  this  District, 
I  am  for  Disunion."  In  one  wing  of  the  Capitol  it  was 
said:  "The  day  in  which  aggression  is  consummated,  this 
Union  is  dissolved,"  and  in  the  other  wing  a  Senator  echoed 
that  the  Union  was  "already  dissolved." 


74  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

The  Senate  was  believed  to  be  conservative,  and  had 
among  its  members  Clay,  Webster,  Calhoun,  Benton, 
Cass,  and  Douglas — all  ambitious  to  lead,  and  none  of 
them  desirous  to  follow  anybody. 

Mr.  Clay  believed  the  times  were  ripe  for  another  great 
compromise  like  that  of  1820.  One  day  toward  the  close 
of  January  he  rose  from  his  chair  in  the  Senate  Chamber, 
and,  waving  a  roll  of  papers,  with  dramatic  eloquence  and 
deep  feeling  announced  to  a  hushed  auditory  that  he  held 
in  his  hand  a  series  of  resolutions  proposing  an  amicable 
arrangement  of  all  questions  growing  out  of  the  subject  of 
slavery. 

Read  and  explained  by  its  author,  this  plan  of  compro- 
mise was,  to  admit  California,  and  to  establish  territorial 
governments  in  the  other  portions  of  the  region  acquired 
from  Mexico,  without  any  provision  for  or  against  slavery, 
to  pay  the  debt  of  Texas  and  fix  her  western  boundary, 
to  declare  that  it  was  "inexpedient"  to  abolish  slavery 
in  the  District  of  Columbia,  but  expedient  to  put  some 
restrictions  on  the  slave-trade  there,  to  pass  a  new  and 
more  stringent  fugitive  slave  law,  and  to  formally  deny 
that  Congress  had  any  power  to  obstruct  the  slave-trade 
between  the  States. 

His  speech  was  by  turns  impressive  and  courtly,  im- 
perious and  sarcastic.  He  dwelt  with  pathos  upon  the 
country's  "bleeding  wounds"  which  he  proposed  to  stanch. 

The  Senators  listened  in  silence.  Most  of  them  were 
desirous  of  some  compromise  that  would  "finally  settle 
the  slavery  question,"  but  very  few  were  disposed  to 
accept  this  one  in  its  entirety.  The  proposed  admission 
of  California  and  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  in  the 
District  of  Columbia  were  distasteful  to  the  Southern 
Senators,  while  the  assumption  of  the  debt  of  Texas,  the 
quasi  opening  of  the  Territories  to  slavery,  and  the  proposed 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  were  equally  objectionable  to  Northern 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  75 

ones.  So  began  the  long  debate,  lasting  through  winter, 
spring,  and  summer. 

Meanwhile  the  newspapers  and  letters  from  constitu- 
ents showed  that  elsewhere,  as  well  as  at  the  Federal 
capital,  the  proposed  Compromise  was  an  engrossing  topic. 
Meetings  were  held  in  support  of  it.  State  legislatures 
took  ground  for  and  against  it.  Absurd  rumours  found 
credence  in  the  lobbies.  One  day  there  was  an  alarm 
that  the  House  of  Representatives  was  "to  be  broken  up 
by  Southern  men  coming  armed  for  contest."  The  next, 
the  story  was  that  there  would  be  "no  shooting,"  but  that 
the  Southern  members  "would  withdraw  in  a  body." 
California  contributed  to  the  excitement.  Her  new  con- 
stitution was  received,  published,  and  commented  upon. 
Dr.  Gwin  and  Colonel  Fremont,  whom  she  had  chosen  as 
her  Senators,  were  announced  to  be  on  their  way  to 
Washington. 

Each  of  the  leaders  in  Senatorial  debate  felt  that  the 
hour  had  come  for  him  to  define  his  position.  Mr.  Bell, 
of  Tennessee,  introduced  a  new  series  of  resolutions, 
similar  in  principle  but  differing  in  detail. 

Mr.  Calhoun,  though  in  failing  health,  obtained  the 
floor  for  a  speech.  Everybody  awaited  it  with  great  in- 
terest, regarding  him  as  the  acknowledged  exponent  of 
Southern  opinion.  He  had  already  said  briefly,  in  solemn 
tones,  that  he  had  "long  laboured  faithfully  to  repress 
the  encroachment  of  the  North,"  that  he  "saw  where  it 
would  end,  and  now  despaired  of  seeing  it  arrested  in 
Congress."  "What  the  South  will  do,"  he  added,  "is 
not  for  me  to  say.  They  will  meet  it,  in  my  opinion,  as 
it  ought  to  be  met." 

When  he  rose  to  speak  on  the  4th  of  March,  an  expect- 
ant throng  filled  the  Senate  Chamber.  His  gaunt  figure 
and  emaciated  features  attested  that  he  had  risen  from  a 
sick  bed ;  but  his  fiery  eyes  and  unshaken  voice  showed  he 


76  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

had  no  intention  of  abandoning  the  contest.  In  a  few 
words  he  explained  that  his  health  would  not  permit  him 
to  deliver  the  speech  he  had  prepared,  but  that  "his 
friend  the  Senator  behind  him  [Mason]  would  read  it  for 
him."  Beginning  by  saying  that  he  had  believed  from 
the  first  that  "the  agitation  of  the  subject  of  slavery" 
would  probably  end  in  "disunion,"  the  speech  opposed 
Clay's  plan  of  adjustment,  attacked  the  President's  plan, 
adverted  to  the  growing  feeling  at  the  South  that  it  could 
not  remain  in  the  Union  "with  safety  and  honour," 
pointed  out  the  gradual  snapping,  one  after  another,  of 
the  links  which  held  the  Union  together,  and  expressed 
the  most  gloomy  forebodings  for  the  future.  When  he 
closed,  the  general  feeling  in  Washington  was  that  it  was 
Calhoun's  last  speech,  and  that  it  had  rung  the  knell  of 
the  Union. 

Three  days  later  a  similar  or  greater  throng  gathered 
to  hear  Daniel  Webster's  great  "7th  of  March  speech," 
which  has  ever  since  been  regarded  as  marking  a  distinct 
era  in  his  life.  When  he  rose  from  his  seat,  in  the  middle 
of  the  Chamber,  wearing  his  customary  blue  coat  with 
metal  buttons,  he  stood  grave  and  sombre  as  a  sphinx. 
He  was  listened  to  with  eager  curiosity.  There  had  been 
much  uncertainty  as  to  his  probable  course,  and  his  con- 
versation had  been  reticent  and  guarded.  He  began 
slowly,  calmly,  almost  judicially,  without  a  gesture  or 
movement  for  several  minutes.  Then,  growing  slightly 
more  animated,  he  drew  his  hand  out  from  his  breast  to 
emphasize  a  sonorous  utterance.  He  was,  as  always, 
clear  and  powerful.  His  words,  while  they  disappointed 
thousands  of  his  friends  at  the  North,  lent  new  vigour 
to  the  "Compromisers,"  with  whom,  it  was  seen,  he 
would  thenceforth  act.  Washington  society  was  delighted 
to  gain  such  a  champion,  but  as  one  of  his  colleagues 
cynically  remarked:  "Wait  till  you  hear  from  Boston." 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  77 

On  the  nth  of  March,  my  father  had  the  floor.  There 
was  no  uncertainty  about  the  position  of  "the  ultra 
Senator  from  New  York,"  who  was  deemed  the  head  and 
front  of  the  unpopular  anti-slavery  minority.  No  crowd 
filled  the  galleries,  and  there  was  but  a  slim  attendance 
of  Senators,  though  many  of  the  newly  elected  Represen- 
tatives came  over  from  the  other  chamber  to  listen  to  him. 
The  speech  was  elaborate  and  one  of  his  best.  He  ad- 
vocated the  immediate  admission  of  California,  and  the 
abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  denounced 
the  proposed  fugitive  slave  law,  and  called  up  a  picture 
of  what  would  happen  when  the  projectors  of  disunion 
should  come  to  draw  the  lines  of  their  new  "republic  of 
the  South."  He  told  them  it  would  entail  border  warfare, 
stoppage  of  trade  and  travel  and  social  intercourse,  fami- 
lies and  kindred  separated  and  converted  into  enemies, 
new  and  onerous  taxes  and  conscriptions  to  maintain  an 
army  and  navy  "under  the  new  and  hateful  banner  of 
sedition";  and  all  this  done  to  secure  the  institution  of 
African  slavery.  He  said  the  question  of  dissolution 
embraced  the  fearful  issue  whether  the  Union  should 
stand  and  slavery  be  removed  by  gradual,  peaceful  effort, 
with  compensation — or  the  Union  be  dissolved,  "and 
civil  war  ensue,  bringing  on  violent  but  complete  and 
immediate  emancipation.''  He  closed  by  saying  that 
the  Union  would  survive  even  such  a  conflict — that  it  was 
the  creature  of  necessities,  physical,  moral,  social,  and 
political,  and  "endures  because  some  government  must 
exist  here  and  no  other  government  but  this  can." 

Every  morning's  mail  now  brought  a  pile  of  criticisms 
and  commendations  upon  'this  speech  from  far  and  near. 
Warm,  enthusiastic,  and  grateful  letters  came  from  the 
Pacific  Coast.  The  boldness  of  its  dissent  from  such 
honoured  leaders  as  Clay  and  Webster  called  forth  the 
censure  of  many  of  his  own  party  as  well  as  of  the  other. 


78  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

His  vivid  description  of  what  a  civil  war  in  the  United 
States  would  be — and  his  prediction  that  it  would  inevita- 
bly bring  sudden  and  violent  emancipation,  attracted  less 
attention  from  either  friends  or  foes  than  might  have 
been  expected — perhaps  because  neither  of  them,  at  that 
period,  were  disposed  to  believe  that  such  events  could 
actually  happen. 

Those  who  were  seeking  for  a  vulnerable  point  for 
attack  in  his  argument  thought  they  had  found  one  in 
his  declaration  that  the  fugitive  slave  law  was  not  only 
in  contravention  of  the  Constitution,  but  also  of  the  higher 
law  of  justice  and  humanity.  This  mention  of  a  "higher 
law"  was  denounced  as  certainly  treason  and  little  short 
of  blasphemy.  It  was  held  that  no  law  could  be  higher 
than  the  Constitution,  even  those  of  the  Almighty, — for 
every  good  citizen  was  bound  to  obey  the  one;  while  the 
other  he  could  think  as  he  pleased  about.  The  phrase 
"higher  law"  became  a  byword  of  political  reproach  and 
a  theme  of  religious  discussion.  Press  and  pupit  through 
the  country  divided  in  opinion  over  it.  It  was  pronounced 
pernicious,  immoral,  and  wicked.  It  was  declared  to  be 
moral,  philosophic  and  Christian.  Nearly  every  public 
man  of  prominence  found  himself  called  upon  to  state 
what  his  views  were  in  regard  to  the  relative  obligation 
of  divine  and  human  laws.  Even  those  who  disliked  the 
provisions  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  were  required  to 
say  that  it  should  be  obeyed  "because  it  was  law,"  and 
also  because  it  would  please  the  South.  Of  course  views 
varied  with  varying  minds  and  tempers. 

Beginning  with  criticism  by  the  cautious,  the  debate 
ran  into  rancorous  and  abusive  epithets  by  the  zealous 
and  violent.  The  phrase  was  repeated  and  quoted  so 
often  that  it  became  associated  with  my  father's  name, 
and  with  that  of  his  party.  The  wordy  storm  raged  for 
months,  and  was  not  forgotten  during  his  lifetime.  Yet 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  79 

the  most  rancorous  of  his  critics  were  all  the  while  declaring 
that  the  right  of  disunion  and  secession  was  considerably 
"higher"  than  any  constitution  ever  made. 

Colonel  Benton  spoke  more  than  once  in  the  long  de- 
bate. His  commanding  personality,  his  originality  and 
independence,  and  his  incisive  sarcasm  always  secured 
attention.  Although  representing  a  slave  State,  he  had 
no  sympathy  with  disunion,  and  not  much  with  the  "Com- 
promise" proposed  to  avert  it.  He  moved  to  take  up  and 
pass  the  California  bill  without  regard  to  other  measures. 

General  Cass  and  most  of  the  other  Northern  Senators 
followed  the  lead  of  Clay  and  Webster.  There  were  only 
three  anti-slavery  dissenters,  Seward,  Hale,  and  Chase. 

A  select  "Committee  of  Thirteen"  was  appointed, 
having  six  Northern  Senators  and  six  Southern  ones  and 
one  to  be  chosen  by  the  twelve.  To  this  committee  the 
resolutions  were  referred,  and  it  was  expected  to  mature 
some  scheme  that  should  solve  "all  pending  differences 
growing  out  of  the  institution  of  slavery."  Clay  was 
chairman,  and  Webster,  Cass,  Bell,  Dickinson,  Berrien, 
Mangum,  and  Mason  were  among  the  members. 

The  death  of  Calhoun  and  the  funeral  honours  to  his 
memory  occasioned  a  pause,  but  only  a  brief  one,  in  the 
engrossing  debate. 

Winter  passed  away.  Spring  buds  and  blossoms  came, 
and  the  hot  summer  sunshine  began.  But  there  was 
no  talk  of  adjournment.  Not  only  Congress  but  the 
country  was  absorbed  in  the  great  debate.  Newspapers 
throughout  the  land  were  teeming  with  it.  In  May  the 
Committee  of  Thirteen  reported  a  scheme,  embodying 
substantially  all  of  Clay's  propositions  with  the  addition 
of  one  to  make  Utah  a  distinct  Territory.  This  compound 
legislation  soon  gained  the  popular  nickname  of  "the 
Omnibus  Bill." 

It  proved  an  unwieldy  vehicle,  as  it  rumbled  on  through 


8o  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

more  speeches  and  more  debates,  with  an  occasional  test 
vote  on  some  minor  point. 

On  the  Whig  side,  Senators  Upham  and  Truman  Smith 
took  ground  against  it.  On  the  Democratic  side,  Sena- 
tors Douglas,  Morton,  and  Shields  said  it  would  be  de- 
feated as  a  whole,  but  most  of  its  measures  might  be 
taken  up  and  passed  separately.  John  Bell's  speech  was 
able  and  scholarly,  and  intended  to  be  impartial,  but 
seemed  not  even  to  satisfy  himself.  On  the  first  day  of 
its  delivery,  people  in  the  galleries  said,  "Bell  is  for  it." 
On  the  second  day  they  said,  "Bell  will  vote  against  it." 
On  the  third  that  he  "cannot  make  up  his  mind." 

My  father  made  a  second  speech,  in  which  he  described 
"the  Slaveholders'  Dream" — a  dream  of  new  States  sur- 
rounding the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  combined  with  the  old  slave 
States  and  constituting  a  Slave  Empire  with  its  metropolis 
in  the  Crescent  City.  This,  he  said,  was  woven  of  "the 
stuff  that  dreams  are  made  of,"  and  yet  "nothing  seems 
impossible  to  the  slaveholders,  after  the  advantages  they 
have  already  gained." 

As  the  summer  wore  on,  Mr.  Clay  began  to  look  wearied 
and  haggard  and  to  betray  impatience  and  temper.  The 
fiery  sun  beat  down  each  day  more  pitilessly  on  the  hot 
Capitol  and  its  heated  orators  in  the  two  chambers. 

One  of  the  recreations  of  Washington  society  was  to 
gather  in  the  grounds  of  the  Executive  Mansion,  to  sit 
in  the  shade  and  fan  themselves,  while  listening  to  the 
strains  of  the  Marine  Band. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  my  father  and  I  strolled  from 
there  across  Lafayette  Square,  to  call  on  Mr.  Clayton, 
the  Secretary  of  State.  He  received  us  with  hearty  South- 
ern hospitality.  His  sideboard  with  decanters  and 
glasses  stood  in  the  front  hall,  and  every  visitor  was  in- 
vited to  refresh  himself.  He  was  tall,  sturdy,  white- 
haired,  and  of  very  genial  presence. 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  81 

In  his  easy  chair,  glass  in  hand,  he  gave  us  the  latest 
gossip  of  the  executive  circle.  The  President  was  not 
going  to  budge  from  his  position.  The  Queen  of  England 
was  going  to  approve  the  Clayton-Bulwer  Treaty,  whether 
Nicaragua  liked  it  or  not.  Sir  Henry  and  Lady  Bulwer 
were  going  to  Staten  Island  for  the  summer,  and  later 
would  receive  higher  diplomatic  rank.  The  Queen  of 
Spain  wanted  pay  for  the  Amistad  slaves,  liberated  by  our 
Supreme  Court.  She  would  not  get  it.  The  King  of  the 
Sandwich  Islands  had  sent  his  two  sons  to  visit  the  United 
States,  in  charge  of  a  missionary,  Rev.  Dr.  Judd.  They 
were  educated,  erect,  graceful,  and  were  royal  princes. 
Washington  society  was  disposed  to  adore  their  rank, 
but  balked  at  their  complexion.  It  was  feared  they  might 
be  "black."  Most  of  the  diplomats  were  out  of  town. 
Most  of  the  Congressmen  wanted  to  be,  but  couldn't. 
The  South  American  republics  were  having  their  usual 
revolutions — none  very  sanguinary,  but  generally  all 
ending  in  the  dictatorship  of  some  general. 

The  Secretary  talked  thus  of  the  world's  governmental 
problems  with  the  freedom  and  ease  of  an  expert  chess 
player  about  the  moves  of  a  game.  His  conversation  was 
a  reminder  that  "there  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  " 
— besides  Congressional  debates. 

As  had  been  foreshadowed,  the  "Omnibus  Bill"  was 
defeated  as  a  whole,  but  the  several  measures  composing 
the  "Compromise"  were  taken  up  separately,  and  fresh 
debate  on  each  ensued.  In  this  complex  contest  the  House 
of  Representatives,  the  State  legislatures,  and  the  news- 
papers were  now  taking  active  part. 

It  had  long  been  a  custom  at  the  Academy  of  the  Visita- 
tion at  Georgetown  to  ask  the  President  to  come  as  an 
honoured  guest  to  the  annual  exercises,  and  bestow  the 
prizes  upon  the  members  of  the  graduating  class.  General 
Taylor  complied  with  the  invitation,  but  the  day  proved 


82  Washington  in  '49  and  '50 

very  hot  even  for  July.  Returning  much  heated  and 
fatigued  to  the  White  House,  he  ate  freely  of  cherries  and 
drank  freely  of  milk.  This  was  believed  to  be  the  incip- 
ient cause  of  an  illness,  news  of  which  now  alarmed  the 
capital  and  the  country.  A  long  line  of  anxious  in- 
quirers besieged  the  doors  of  the  White  House. 

A  few  days  later  it  was  announced  that  the  physicians 
had  given  up  hope.  On  the  morning  of  the  loth,  those 
who  lived  near  the  Executive  Mansion  were  awakened  by 
the  solemn  tolling  of  the  bell  on  the  old  State  Department. 
The  dreaded  calamity  had  happened.  It  was  the  second 
of  that  series  of  events,  each  of  which  has  made  an  epoch 
in  the  history  of  the  country. 

There  is  always  deep  and  sincere  grief  in  Washington 
over  the  death  of  a  President.  Many  have  become  his 
personal  friends  and  admirers.  Many  more  have  been 
building  hopes  and  aspirations  upon  his  continuance  in 
office.  Then  follows  a  brief  period  of  curiosity  and  appre- 
hensions in  regard  to  the  probable  policies  of  his  successor. 
Gradually  the  country  settles  down  to  acceptance  of  the 
inevitable,  in  accordance  with  the  ancient  maxim,  "The 
King  is  dead,  long  live  the  King!" 

Vice-President  Fillmore  proceeded  to  the  House  of 
Representatives,  and  there  took  the  oath  of  office  without 
any  ostentatious  ceremony. 

When  it  was  announced  a  few  days  later  that  the  new 
President  had  invited  Mr.  Webster  to  become  his  Secretary 
of  State,  and  that  the  invitation  had  been  accepted,  it 
became  evident  that  the  new  Administration  would  dis- 
card "General  Taylor's  Plan,"  and  instead  would  cast 
its  influence  in  favour  of  "Clay's  Compromise."  The 
Compromisers  themselves  had  almost  lost  heart  when 
they  found  the  Compromise  had  failed  in  its  entirety, 
but  they  were  now  inspired  with  new  zeal  by  the  belief 
that  it  could  be  taken  up  and  carried  through  piecemeal. 


Washington  in  '49  and  '50  83 

The  tone  of  Congress  began  to  veer,  especially  as  the 
press  and  the  country  seemed  to  grow  weary  of  the  strife, 
and  ready  to  accept  any  panacea  that  time-honoured 
leaders  assured  them  would  "finally  settle  the  slavery 
question." 

Looking  down  from  the  galleries,  I  saw  the  closing 
scenes  of  the  great  drama  pass  in  rapid  succession.  The 
California  Bill  was  taken  up.  Attempts  were  made  by 
its  opponents  to  remand  her  to  a  territorial  condition, 
or  to  remit  her  constitution  to  a  new  convention,  or  to 
cut  her  in  two  by  the  line  of  36°  30'.  When  these  had  all 
failed,  she  was  at  last  admitted.  The  Senate  doors  opened 
and  Dr.  Gwin  and  Colonel  Fr6mont  entered  to  take  their 
seats  as  Senators,  amid  much  handshaking  with  their 
friends. 

The  other  measures  were  ordered  to  their  third  reading. 
My  father  made  a  last  attempt  for  emancipation  in  the 
District  of  Columbia,  but  of  course  his  amendment  was 
voted  down,  and  slavery  was  left  undisturbed  there, 
except  that  the  slave-trade  was  restricted.  New  Mexico 
and  Utah  were  organized  into  Territories  open  to  slave- 
holders. The  "Texas  Boundary  Bill"  was  passed,  taking 
ten  million  dollars  from  the  Treasury  to  pay  off  the  dis- 
credited "Texas  scrip,"  large  amounts  of  which  were  said  to 
be  in  the  pockets  of*  members  of  Congress  and  their  inti- 
mate friends.  The  "Fugitive  Slave  Law"  was  rushed 
through. 

I  happened  to  be  in  the  Congressional  Library  that 
morning,  when  I  saw  many  Northern  members  coming  in, 
one  by  one,  and  aimlessly  strolling  about.  Inquiring  of 
one  what  was  going  on  in  the  House,  I  was  told  that  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  about  to  be  voted  on.  These 
were  the  "dodgers,"  who  did  not  want  to  vote  for  it,  nor 
dare  to  vote  against  it. 

I  hurried  over  to  the  House  gallery,  in  time  to  find 


84  The  "Evening  Journal"  Office 

Thaddeus  Stevens  on  his  feet,  and  sarcastically  moving 
that  the  Speaker  might  "send  one  of  his  pages  to  inform 
the  members  that  they  can  return  with  safety,  as  the 
slavery  question  has  been  disposed  of!" 

1851. 

The  "Evening  Journal"  Office.  A  rather  unpretend- 
ing three-story  brick  building  stood  on  the  north  side  of 
State  Street  in  Albany,  about  halfway  down  the  hill,  on 
the  corner  of  James  Street.  This  was  the  office  of  the 
Albany  Evening  Journal,  a  paper  of  wide  political  repute, 
and  whose  editor-in-chief  was  Thurlow  Weed.  All  agreed 
as  to  Mr.  Weed's  sagacity  and  shrewdness,  however  they 
might  differ  as  to  his  course.  He  was  popularly  regarded 
as  a  "Warwick  the  King  Maker,"  who  moved  party  mag- 
nates like  chessmen,  elevating  or  putting  down  legislators, 
State  officers,  governors,  and  even  presidents.  He  was 
still  in  his  prime,  though  his  head  was  beginning  to  grow 
grey,  and  his  shoulders  to  stoop  a  little. 

After  my  admission  to  the  bar  I  had  entered  upon  the 
practice  of  the  law.  But  a  few  months  later  I  received 
an  invitation  from  Mr.  Weed  to  come  and  try  my  hand, 
for  a  time  at  least,  in  journalism. 

The  winter  of  1851-1852  found  me  installed  in  the  edi- 
torial room  as  one  of  the  assistants.  Everything  there 
was  simple,  plain,  and  businesslike.  Our  editorial  furni- 
ture consisted  merely  of  a  table,  a  chair,  an  inkstand  and 
pair  of  scissors  for  each,  and  a  shelf  or  two  of  books  of 
reference,  besides  piles  of  exchange  papers  everywhere. 

Adjoining  this  room  was  the  long  one  where  the  foreman 
and  compositors  were  setting  type  and  making  up  the 
"forms,"  which  were  then  sent  down  to  the  press-room 
in  the  basement.  A  counting-room  on  the  first  floor 
opened  upon  the  street. 

Mr.   Weed   introduced   me   to   my   future   associates. 


The  " Evening  Journal"  Office          85 

George  Dawson,  long  his  trusted  lieutenant,  was  the 
"managing  editor."  He  sat  by  one  window  and  my  table 
was  placed  at  another.  John  Ten  Eyck,  the  "city  editor," 
had  a  small  room  by  himself.  There  were  legislative  and 
other  reporters,  and  occasionally  E.  Peshine  Smith  or 
some  other  unattached  journalist  would  be  called  in  for 
editorial  work.  Visscher  Ten  Eyck  and  his  nephew  Philip 
had  charge  of  the  counting-room  and  the  books. 

It  was  not  a  large  editorial  force,  but  a  busy  one.  Giles 
Winne  had  for  many  years  been  the  foreman  in  the  com- 
posing room,  and  now  his  son,  Jacob,  reigned  in  his  stead. 
Work  began  with  the  daylight,  and  continued  with  in- 
creasing activity  until  three,  when  the  paper  went  to 
press.  The  scene  of  labour  was  then  transferred  to  the 
press-room  in  the  basement,  the  mail  wagons,  and  newsboys 
in  the  streets. 

The  work  of  the  journalist,  like  that  of  the  housewife, 
is  never  done,  and  I  found  that  it  was  often  necessary  or 
wise  to  devote  some  evening  hours  to  preparation  of  the 
matter  for  "tomorrow's  paper." 

When  I  first  took  pen  in  hand  Mr.  Weed  gave  me 
two  valuable  maxims  for  my  guidance:  "First.  Never 
write  any  article  without  some  clear  and  definite  point 
and  purpose.  Second.  When  written,  go  carefully  over 
it  and  strike  out  every  superfluous  word  01*  sentence,  and 
then  see  how  much  you  have  improved  it."  As  he  re- 
marked: "People  have  to  sit  and  listen  to  a  sermon  or  a 
speech  that  may  be  full  of  rambling  repetitions.  But 
when  they  find  the  newspaper  growing  dull  or  tedious, 
they  simply  lay  it  down,  and  don't  take  it  up  again." 

Another  thing  that  I  speedily  discovered  was  that  there 
is  little  time  in  an  editor's  "sanctum"  to  study  up  a 
subject  or  to  consult  authorities.  The  editor,  whether 
right  or  wrong,  must  be  swift  in  decision  and  prompt  in 
expression.  His  readers  will  be  eager  for  any  information 


86  The  "Evening  Journal"  Office 

he  can  give  them  about  the  topic  they  are  interested  in 
today.  But  they  care  little  about  what  happened  day 
before  yesterday,  and  less  about  his  comments  thereon, 
if  deferred  till  day  after  tomorrow.  Furthermore  he  is 
expected  to  know  something  about  everything,  to  say 
why  things  happen,  and  who  is  to  blame  for  them.  Like 
every  college  graduate,  I  had  fancied  that  I  had  accumu- 
lated a  considerable  amount  of  useless  information  on  a 
variety  of  subjects.  But  I  soon  learned  that  any  scrap 
of  knowledge  that  I  possessed  on  any  subject  was  likely 
to  come  into  unexpected  need,  some  day  or  other.  Report- 
ers sometimes  carry  this  doctrine  to  such  extremes  that 
when  they  cannot  get  facts,  they  accept  rumours  and 
then  invent  details  to  embellish  them.  Even  conjectures 
are  only  too  readily  believed  when  they  are  new.  This 
was  just  the  reverse  of  the  rule  I  had  learned  in  my  law 
office,  that  "you  must  assert  nothing  that  you  cannot 
prove." 

As  our  staff  was  small,  our  work  was  not  divided  and 
apportioned,  but  was  rather  conducted  on  the  plan  that 
each  was  to  give  his  aid  wherever  it  was  most  needed  at 
the  time.  So,  within  a  few  weeks,  I  found  myself  as- 
signed to  proof-reading,  reporting,  news  gathering,  liter- 
ary reviewing,  editorial  writing,  and  general  management. 
Either  editor  might  any  day  find  himself  in  sole  charge. 
The  first  time  that  event  happened  to  me  the  responsibility 
seemed  oppressive.  I  felt  as  if  the  world  would  be  out  of 
joint  if  the  Evening  Journal  should  not  get  to  press  at  the 
usual  hour,  through  my  labours,  and  the  equally  important 
ones  of  Jacob  Winne,  the  foreman. 

There  are  many  visitors  each  day  at  the  editorial  room. 
The  throng  included  dignitaries  of  Church  and  State, 
members  of  the  Legislature  and  Congress,  State  and  city 
officials,  political  leaders,  editors  of  other  journals,  popular 
lecturers,  bankers,  merchants,  managers  of  institutions, 


The  ''Evening  Journal"  Office          87 

hospitals,  and  places  of  amusement,  each  of  whom  had 
something  that  he  wished  to  say,  or  to  have  said,  in  the 
Journal.  This  procession  of  visitors  would  be  interesting 
and  often  instructive,  if  it  did  not  continually  interrupt 
editorial  work;  which  must  go  on,  for  the  press,  like  "time 
and  tide,"  will  wait  for  no  man,  and  the  Journal's  hour 
for  going  to  press  was  3  P.M.  So  I  found  it  was  necessary 
to  acquire  the  arts  of  learning  what  was  in  a  pile  of  papers 
by  merely  skimming  through  them,  of  getting  at  the  heart 
of  long  disquisitions  without  reading  them,  and  of  writing 
on  one  subject,  while  asking  questions  or  answering  them 
about  another. 

Mr.  Weed  was  tall,  active,  and  vigorous,  an  indefatigable 
worker  in  the  office  and  out  of  it.  Although  the  Journal 
was  only  twenty  years  old,  it  was  already  a  recognized 
political  power  in  the  State  and  the  leading  organ  of  its 
party.  Desiring  no  official  position  for  himself,  he  was 
regarded  as  the  wise  and  disinterested  adviser  of  all  aspi- 
rants for  place.  Besides  his  reputation  for  political  saga- 
city, he  had  won  esteem  as  a  public-spirited  citizen  and  a 
philanthropist  of  wide  though  unostentatious  benevo- 
lence. The  word  "boss"  had  not  yet  come  into  use  as  a 
designation  for  a  political  magnate,  but  his  friends  often 
spoke  of  him  as  "the  Old  Man"  or  the  "Dictator,"  while 
his  opponents  described  him  as  an  arch-conspirator. 

So  much  about  him  the  public  could  readily  compre- 
hend. But  there  was  another  source  of  his  power,  less 
well  understood.  That  was  his  control  of  public  opinion 
through  his  influence  with  the  press  of  the  State.  From 
natural  sympathy  as  well  as  policy,  he  was  the  intimate 
friend  and  adviser  of  other  journals  and  journalists.  He 
was  always  ready  to  help  them  with  material  for  their 
columns  and  aid  in  their  business  enterprises.  Every 
county  in  the  State  had  its  local  Whig  journal  at  the 
county  seat,  whose  editor  looked  to  Thurlow  Weed  as  his 


88  The  " Evening  Journal"  Office 

political  guide  and  personal  friend.  His  views  were 
echoed  and  repeated,  and  when  some  important  problem 
was  under  discussion,  the  Evening  Journal  would  repro- 
duce and  quote  their  editorials,  to  show  their  practical 
unanimity,  on  a  page  devoted  to  "  The  Voice  of  the  Press." 

One  of  the  natural  results  of  this  esprit  de  corps  and 
friendly  intimacy,  was  his  thorough  knowledge  of  edito- 
rial plans  and  projects.  Very  few  changes  of  proprietor- 
ship and  very  few  schemes  for  new  newspaper  enterprises 
were  entered  upon  without  previous  consultation  with 
him.  When  in  the  Presidential  election  of  1840  it  was 
decided  to  start  a  Whig  campaign  paper  called  the  Jeffer- 
sonian,  Mr.  Weed  went  to  New  York  to  look  up  an  editor 
for  it.  He  found  a  young  man  struggling  with  a  not  very 
prosperous  literary  periodical.  Earnest  and  industrious, 
of  advanced  opinions  and  somewhat  eccentric  habits,  he 
possessed  a  philosophical  temper  and  a  positive  genius 
for  editorial  work.  This  was  Horace  Greeley,  who  thence- 
forth became  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  Journal  office  and 
a  warm  friend  of  Thurlow  Weed.  The  Jeffersonian  was 
succeeded  by  the  Log  Cabin,  and  after  General  Harrison's 
election  it  developed  into  the  New  York  Tribune,  and 
entered  upon  its  long  and  enduring  career. 

Several  years  later,  after  I  had  become  an  assistant 
editor  of  the  Journal,  I  was  present  at  a  consultation  over 
the  feasibility  of  establishing  a  new  morning  journal  in 
New  York.  Charles  A.  Dana,  then  of  the  Tribune,  and 
Henry  J.  Raymond,  then  of  the  Courier  and  Inquirer, 
had  come  to  Mr.  Weed  to  ask  his  advice  and  approval 
of  such  an  enterprise.  All  agreed  that  no  new  journal 
could  hope  to  compete  with  the  Herald  in  the  business  of 
gathering  world-wide  news,  or  with  the  Tribune  in  advo- 
cating measures  of  progress  and  reform.  But  Raymond 
was  confident  that  there  was  a  field  somewhere  between 
the  two,  for  a  paper  that  would  suit  the  taste  of  a  great 


The  "  Evening  Journal "  Office          89 

middle  class  of  New  York,  conservative  in  politics,  want- 
ing accurate  news,  rather  than  reforms  or  sensations,  or 
gossip  and  scandals.  The  outcome  of  this  conference 
was  the  starting  of  the  New  York  Times,  and  the  tall 
tower  that  stands  today  in  Times  Square  is  a  monument 
to  the  wise  judgment  of  its  founders. 

How  to  get  the  busy  New  York  public  to  turn  aside 
from  its  accustomed  papers  long  enough  to  buy  or  read 
the  new  newspaper  was  the  next  problem.  Dana's  opinion 
was  that  it  should  follow  Weed's  method  of  short,  crisp 
editorial  articles,  keenly  critical  and  yet  humorous.  His 
success,  in  after  years,  with  the  New  York  Sun  exempli- 
fies what  he  had  in  mind.  Raymond  believed  that  the 
way  to  win  public  attention  to  a  new  paper  would  be  to 
make  it  the  special  source  of  information  on  one  great 
topic  at  a  time,  that  might  then  be  engrossing  the  public 
mind.  This  line  of  action  he  afterward  pursued  at  the 
time  of  Kossuth's  visit,  and  again  in  the  investigation 
and  pursuit  of  the  Tweed  Ring.  The  press  like  the  drama 
must  "hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature,"  and  reflect  the 
temper  of  the  time. 

Journalism  I  found  a  pursuit  quite  attractive,  and  well 
suited  to  my  tastes  and  disposition.  Political  questions 
and  contests  had  more  interest  for  me  than  legal  ones.  To 
lead  and  rightly  guide  public  opinion  seemed  to  me  the 
height  of  any  reasonable  ambition.  I  had  no  hankering 
for  public  office.  Although  only  just  arrived  at  the  voting 
age,  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  already  had  a  lifetime  of  obser- 
vation of  the  working  of  the  business  of  office-seeking  and 
office-holding,  and  I  had  no  desire  to  engage  in  that  strug- 
gle. Public  office  I  had  been  taught  to  consider  a  duty, 
to  be  neither  sought  nor  shunned;  I  heartily  agreed  with 
that  instruction,  and  intended  to  avoid,  so  far  as  possible, 
its  lures,  its  responsibilities,  and  its  inevitable  unsatis- 
factory ending.  So  I  was  resolved  that  whatever  public 


90  Editorial  Topics 

duty  I  might  be  called  upon  to  perform  should  not  be  of 
my  own  seeking. 

Editorial  Topics.  Looking  now  over  the  files  of  the 
Evening  Journal  of  half  a  century  ago,  I  note  how  topics 
have  passed  away  or  lost  interest.  Questions  have  been 
settled,  opinions  changed,  things  local  and  temporary 
have  been  relegated  to  oblivion.  One  can  perceive  the 
changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the  country's  history, 
as  well  as  in  the  character  of  its  journalism.  If  a  contrast 
were  to  be  drawn  between  the  newspaper  articles  of  that 
day  and  this,  I  should  say  the  older  ones  had  more  of 
strenuous  earnestness,  and  the  later  ones  more  of  the  air 
of  judicial  impartiality. 

My  own  editorials  were  numerous,  the  earlier  ones 
crude  enough — some  well  intended  but  based  on  mistaken 
premises — but  some  of  the  later  ones  containing  forecasts 
since  verified. 

There  was  no  lack  of  topics  for  discussion  and  comment 
during  the  ten  years  I  spent  in  the  Evening  Journal  office. 
The  foreign  news,  then  received  by  steamer  instead  of 
Atlantic  cable,  brought  many  events  of  stirring  interest: 
the  revolutionary  movements  in  European  capitals;  the 
Hungarian  revolution  and  Kossuth's  visit  to  America; 
the  Crimean  War;  Louis  Napoleon's  coup  d'etat;  the  war 
in  Italy;  the  liberation  of  Venice  and  Rome;  the  doings 
of  Garibaldi,  Victor  Emmanuel,  and  Cavour. 

Then  there  were  the  political  movements  in  the  United 
States:  the  Compromise  and  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law;  the 
Presidential  campaign  between  Pierce  and  Scott;  the 
gradual  disintegration  of  parties;  the  "Old  Hunkers" 
and  "Barn-burners";  the  "Hards"  and  "Softs";  the 
"Old  Line  Whigs";  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  "Know-noth- 
ing" or  "Native  American  party";  the  collapse  of  the 
Whigs;  the  rise  of  the  Republican  party  and  its  progress 


A  New  Word  91 

throughout  the  Northern  States;  Douglas's  Nebraska 
Bill  and  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise;  the 
Presidential  campaign  between  Buchanan  and  Fremont; 
the  Dred  Scott  Decision  and  the  claim  of  the  extension 
of  slavery  to  all  States  and  Territories;  the  struggle  in 
Kansas  between  the  free-State  settlers  and  the  "Border 
Ruffians";  the  appointment  of  Kansas  governors  and 
the  application  of  Kansas  for  admission  to  the  Union; 
the  national  conventions  at  Charleston,  Baltimore,  and 
Chicago ;  the  nomination  and  election  of  Lincoln  and  Ham- 
lin  and  the  advent  of  the  Republicans  to  political  power — 
altogether  an  exciting  series  of  critical  events  both  at 
home  and  abroad. 

Chief  among  the  topics  of  political  discussion  during 
the  ten  years  prior  to  the  Civil  War,  was  the  question  of 
the  extension  of  slavery. 

I853- 

A  New  Word.  On£  morning  my  friend,  E.  Peshine 
Smith,  who  was  a  lover  of  linguistic  and  other  historical 
problems,  came  into  the  Evening  Journal  office  with  a 
new  suggestion. 

He  said:  "It  is  time  that  we  invented  a  word  to  take 
the  place  of  our  cumbrous  phrase,  'telegraphic  despatch' 
or  '  telegraphic  message. '  Now  that  we  have  the  telegraph 
we  ought  to  have  some  shorter  word  to  take  the  place  of 
two  long  ones." 

"Well,  what  word  do  you  suggest?" 
"Telegram.  That  is  of  Greek  origin  like  'telegraph' 
and  is  a  perfectly  proper  derivative.  Telegraph  is  the 
machine  that  writes.  Telegram  is  the  thing  that  it 
writes.  It  is  analogous  to  'epigram,'  'anagram,'  and 
'monogram.'" 

"Well!  let  us  try  it  in  the  Evening  Journal  today." 
So  the  new  word  was  put  forth.     But  individuals  and 


92  A  Thanksgiving  Relic 

newspapers  did  not  take  kindly  to  it.  They  thought  it 
looked  queer,  and  was  an  affectation.  Some  said  "tele- 
graph "  was  a  good  enough  word  to  use.  One  or  two  news- 
papers followed  the  Journal's  example,  but  the  general 
public  pooh-poohed  it,  and  so  the  word  fell  into  gradual 
disuse. 

Six  months  later,  E.  Peshine  Smith  came  in  again,  tri- 
umphantly waving  a  copy  of  the  London  Times. 

"See  here,"  said  he;  "the  'Thunderer'  has  got  our  word, 
and  what  is  more,  it  applauds  it  as  a  very  convenient 
abbreviation." 

I  asked:  "Does  it  call  it  an  Americanism?" 

"No,"  said  he.  "Just  uses  it.  Now  we  will  see 
whether  the  papers  here  will  take  any  more  kindly  to  it, 
when  it  comes  to  us  with  a  foreign  stamp  on  it." 

And  sure  enough  they  did.  "Telegram"  came  soon 
into  general  use,  and  is  so  still. 

I  said  to  Mr.  Smith:  "It  seems  that  a  new  word  is  like 
a  new  opera  singer.  She  may  have  ever  so  good  a  voice, 
but  she  will  not  be  appreciated,  if  born  in  this  country, 
until  she  has  been  to  London  and  back  again." 

A  Thanksgiving  Relic.  Anniversaries  and  holidays 
were  of  course  recorded  in  the  Evening  Journal  with 
suitable  editorial  comments.  Thanksgiving  was  espe- 
cially observed,  and  Mr.  Weed,  on  that  day,  presented 
each  one  of  his  employees  with  a  turkey  for  his  family 
dinner. 

Thanksgiving,  in  those  days,  was  a  State  and  not  a 
national  festival.  The  governor  of  each  State  designated 
the  day  at  his  pleasure.  Perhaps  as  an  assertion  of 
"State  rights,"  these  days  were  often  of  different  dates. 
But  it  happened  that  in  1853  quite  a  large  number  chose 
the  same  date. 

I  wrote  an  editorial  article,  on  this  occasion,  for  the 


A  Thanksgiving  Relic  93 

Journal.     Then  I  heard  no  more  of  it  for  fifty-nine  years. 
In  1912,  I  received  a  letter  enclosing  a  newspaper  clip- 
ping from  my  old  friend  Judge  Nott,  ex-Chief  Justice  of 
the  United  States  Court  of  Claims.     It  ran  as  follows: 

"PRINCETON,  June  19,  1912. 

"  I  have  kept  this  tribute  to  Thanksgiving  all  these  years ; 
and  send  it  to  you  now,  because  I  think  that  there  is  no 
one  in  the  world  who  will  appreciate  its  beauties  so  much 
as  you,  except  me. 

"  Do  you  remember  it?  I  stand  ready  to  bet  that  you 
have  forgotten  its  existence.  It  is  associated  in  my  mind 
with  two  men,  Mr.  Blatchford  and  Mr.  Weed.  Mr. 
Blatchford  read  it  and  said:  'Weed,  that  is  the  very  best 
thing  of  the  kind  that  you  ever  wrote,  or  ever  will  write.' 

"  Mr.  Weed  replied:  'Yes,  that  is  very  true,  except  that 
I  did  not  write  it,  and  Fred  Seward  did.' 

"  The  explanation  of  my.  having  found  it  is  that  we  are 
leaving  Princeton  and  I  have  been  through  my  packages 
of  old  letters  and  literary  treasures  and  here  is  this  one. 
I  hope  that  you  will  appreciate  it  half  as  much  as  I  do 
and  (like  me)  wonder  that  you  ever  wrote  anything  so 
good. 

"C.  C.  N." 

(From  the  Albany  Evening  Journal,  Nov.  23,  1853.) 

"THANKSGIVING  DAY 

"Twenty-two  States  are  to  dine  together  tomorrow. 
The  invitations  have  been  out  for  a  month.  The  dinner 
is  given  in  honour  of  Connecticut,  the  oldest  invited  guest, 
who  sits  down  to  the  anniversary  feast  for  the  hundred 
and  fifty-fifth  time.  The  table  will  be  three  thousand 
miles  long — so  there  is  sure  to  be  room.  New  Hamp- 


94  A  Thanksgiving  Relic 

shire  has  agreed  to  preside,  at  the  upper  end,  in  a  huge 
granite  chair.  The  clergy  of  the  Union  will  say  grace 
two  hours  beforehand.  Thirty-six  thousand  church  bells 
have  been  arranged  to  chime  the  music.  The  viands  will 
be  various  to  suit  all  tastes — from  ice  at  the  upper  end, 
to  wines  and  fruits  at  the  lower.  But  the  majority  of 
the  guests  will  probably  make  their  dinner  of  roast  turkey 
and  pumpkin  pie,  out  of  compliment  to  old  Connecticut, 
the  founder  of  the  festival. 

"  It  must  be  a  pleasant  sight  for  her  to  see  the  whole 
family  gathered  around  her  table,  with  Uncle  Sam,  about 
halfway  down,  in  the  midst  of  them.  The  old  fellow  is 
pretty  well  in  years  now  (seventy-eight  last  July)  but 
still  hale  and  hearty,  thanks  to  an  excellent  constitution. 
Virginia,  his  eldest  daughter  (a  well-meaning  person, 
though  with  a  deal  of  family  pride,  and  very  much  given 
to  talking  about  her  son  'George,'  for  which,  however, 
nobody  can  blame  her),  will  have  a  seat  at  his  right  hand. 
Texas,  a  rough-and-ready  sort  of  backwoodsman,  has  a 
place  at  the  other  end  of  the  table,  and  will  probably 
contrive  to  sit  very  close  to  Louisiana,  one  of  the  youngest 
and  prettiest  of  the  old  gentleman's  nieces.  New  York 
will  be  there  as  long  as  he  can  spare  time;  but  business  on 
'Change  will  probably  call  him  away  by  the  express  train, 
before  dinner  is  over.  Maine  and  South  Carolina  were 
too  impatient  to  wait,  and  so  they  have  been  already 
accommodated  at  a  side  table.  California  (a  stout  little 
fellow,  of  three  years,  who,  his  elder  sisters  vow,  is  worth 
his  weight  in  gold)  is  too  young  to  come. 

"Of  course,  there  have  been  idle  stories  in  circulation 
about  this  family,  as  there  are  about  all  families,  which 
this  Gathering  will  do  much  to  dispel.  Some,  for  instance, 
have  asserted  that  they  were  head  over  ears  in  debt,  and 
so  near  bankrupt  that  they  could  not  afford  sugar  in  their 
tea.  Uncle  Sam  will  chuckle  at  them  well  when  he  pulls 


Albany  Life  95 

out  a  surplus  of  $20,000,000  which  he  proposes  to  exhibit. 
Others,  again,  have  privately  hinted  that  Mississippi  has 
applied  for  a  divorce,  and  that  she  is  going  to  run  away 
with  a  worthless  adventurer.  But  her  presence  at  the 
dinner,  smiling  and  contented,  will  pretty  effectually  stop 
that  gossip.  Others  again,  pretend  that  there  is  a  deadly 
quarrel  between  New  York,  Virginia,  Massachusetts, 
and  two  or  three  others.  But  you  will  see  that  they  will 
be  shaking  hands  over  the  dinner  table  before  sundown. 
"The  old  folks  will  take  great  pleasure  in  talking  over 
the  days  when  they  were  young,  and  all  thirteen  of  them 
lived  together — down  on  the  seashore.  The  young  ones 
will,  of  course,  be  full  of  a  thousand  visionary  schemes  by 
which  they  think  they  are  going  to  make  a  great  noise 
in  the  world  by  and  by.  But,  at  any  rate,  they  will  all 
be  the  better  for  the  old  tales  that  will  be  told,  the  old 
jokes  that  will  be  made,  and  the  old  songs  that  will  be 
sung,  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  Hope  and  Memory 
(two  old  servants  of  this  family  who  have  done  more  to 
keep  it  together  than  any  amount  of  compromises  could) 
will  light  them  all  up  to  bed,  and  supply  them  with  the 
material  for  their  Thanksgiving  dreams." 

Albany  Life.  Albany  is  proverbial  for  its  hospitality 
— an  inheritance  from  its  old  Dutch  founders.  Its  im- 
portance as  the  State  capital  and  a  political  centre  drew 
to  it,  every  winter,  many  persons  of  public  distinction, 
and  families  of  culture  and  refinement.  My  residence 
there  was  a  pleasant  one,  and  when  I  look  back  at  it  now, 
there  come  up  memories  of  acquaintances  that  ripened 
into  lifelong  friendships,  and  events  that  it  is  a  renewed 
pleasure  to  recall. 

At  an  evening  party  there  I  met  a  young  lady  just 
entering  society,  whose  home  was  near  the  well-remembered 
scenes  of ' '  Kane's  Walk . ' '  Talk  of  youthful  remembrances 


96  An  Albany  Concert 

and  congenial  tastes  soon  led  to  mutual  regard;  and  a 
year  later,  this  resulted  in  our  marriage — a  union  which 
has  proved  the  chief  element  of  my  life's  happiness — and 
which  has  long  transcended  the  "Silver"  and  "Golden 
Wedding"  anniversaries,  both  of  which  so  many  hope 
for,  and  so  few  attain. 

Daily  observation  and  contact  with  the  workings  of 
the  State  government  doubtless  inspired  the  young  men 
of  Albany  with  more  than  ordinary  interest  in  public 
affairs.  I  found  my  contemporaries  alive  to  questions 
of  State  and  national  progress,  ardent  reformers,  zealous 
for  good  citizenship;  and  yet  with  less  of  partisan  bitter- 
ness than  is  often  found  in  more  isolated  communities. 

My  association  with  them,  as  well  as  my  daily  news- 
paper work,  served  to  keep  me  in  touch  with  public  opin- 
ion, and  to  increase  my  faith  in  the  belief  that  the  world 
was  gradually  progressing.  They  honoured  me  with 
their  confidence,  choosing  me  to  be  their  spokesman,  or 
presiding  officer,  on  occasions  of  importance,  among  them 
the  demonstrations  of  sympathy  with  European  struggles 
for  liberty,  the  welcoming  of  Kossuth,  the  founding  of 
the  University  and  its  branches,  and  the  preliminary 
steps  toward  the  formation  of  the  Republican  party. 

An  Albany  Concert.  In  those  days,  concerts  and  lec- 
tures were  favourite  amusements  for  Albany  society. 
The  list  of  lecturers  comprised  such  names  as  Wendell 
Phillips,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Dr.  Bethune,  George 
William  Curtis,  George  Sumner,  Judge  William  Kent, 
John  P.  Hale,  and  others  well  known  to  fame. 

Among  the  concerts  were  those  of  the  Hutchinsons, 
Dempster,  Madame  Bishop,  Eliza  Greenfield  (the  "Black 
Swan"),  the  Swiss  Bellringers,  Parodi,  Piccolomini,  and 
other  operatic  stars. 

One  of  these  concerts  was  a  notable  one.     Strakosch 


An  Albany  Concert  97 

and  his  wife,  who  was  Amalia  Patti,  had  brought  with 
them  little  ten-year-old  Adelina  Patti,  with  her  wonderful 
voice.  Ole  Bull  was  also  of  the  troupe. 

Association  Hall  was  packed  with  a  great  audience. 
All  went  well  until  about  the  middle  of  the  evening 
when  some  hitch  occurred.  There  was  a  long  wait. 
Excited  voices  were  heard  from  the  little  greenroom,  just 
off  the  stage,  apparently  in  dispute  and  remonstrance. 

After  a  while  Ole  Bull  came  out,  and  intimating  there 
would  be  some  delay,  said  that  if  the  audience  would 
permit,  he  would  play  something  of  his  own,  which  was 
not  on  the  program.  Of  course  the  audience  approved. 

Remarking  simply  that  it  was  a  dialogue  between  a 
young  Venetian  husband  and  his  wife,  on  their  way  to 
the  Carnival,  he  raised  his  violin  to  his  shoulder. 

The  violin  began  softly,  with  the  familiar  strains  of  the 
Carnival  of  Venice,  and  then,  with  endless  variations  on 
that  theme,  proceeded  to  tell  the  story.  We  heard  the 
young  couple  gaily  chatting  and  laughing.  The  husband 
hummed  a  dancing  tune,  and  the  wife  skipped  along  as 
an  accompaniment.  Then  they  united  in  a  love  song. 
Presently  something  was  said  that  gave  offence.  There 
was  a  sharp  rebuke.  His  tones  became  abrupt  and  gruff. 
Hers  were  shrill  and  defiant.  The  quarrel  went  on  louder 
and  louder.  He  scolded.  She  mocked  and  sneered. 
He  stormed  and  swore.  She  wept  and  wailed  and  sobbed. 
But  now  they  are  at  the  door  of  the  cathedral.  The  organ 
notes  come  pealing  forth.  They  drop  their  voices.  He 
softens  his  tones.  She  begins  to  plead  and  coax.  Recon- 
ciliation and  forgiveness  follow.  They  enter  the  doorway 
and  join  in  the  Jubilate  chorus  that  comes  down  from 
the  choir  above. 

Suddenly  the  music  stops.  Ole  Bull  is  making  a  bow 
and  retiring. 

We  of  the  audience  sit  silent.    Then  presently  we  awake 


98  Kossuth  at  Albany 

to  a  realizing  sense  that  we  have  been  listening  to  an 
entirely  imaginary  scene.  There  is  no  quarrel.  There 
is  no  young  couple — no  Venice.  The  witchery  of  the 
violin  has  conjured  up  the  whole  scene  before  our  eyes 
and  ears.  Now  the  spell  is  broken.  Next  moment  we 
are  all  laughing  at  each  other,  and  applauding  Ole 
Bull. 

Then  Ole  Bull  caps  the  climax  by  leading  out  the  little 
girl — her  eyes  red  with  crying,  but  smiling  through  her 
tears,  and  ready  to  sing  sweetly  the  little  aria  which  had 
been  assigned  to  her. 

Next  morning,  Strakosch  came  round  to  the  Journal 
office  and  we  congratulated  him  on  the  artistic  triumph 
of  the  night  before. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "but  think  of  the  trouble  I  was  in. 

That  little  d [he  did  not  say  "diva"]  refused  to  sing 

unless  she  had  a  pound  of  candy.  I  had  provided  none. 
I  rushed  downstairs  and  out  into  the  street  to  look  for  a 
confectionery  shop.  It  was  after  nine  'o'clock  and  all 
were  closed.  Finally,  on  a  side  street  I  found  an  old 
confectioner,  who  lived  over  his  shop.  I  persuaded  him 
to  come  down  and  sell  me  a  pound.  Then  I  ran  back,  and 
found  how  good  Ole  Bull  had  saved  the  situation." 

Kossuth  at  Albany.  Bells  are  ringing,  whistles  blowing 
and  cannon  booming.  Flags  are  flying  over  streets  and 
buildings.  Among  them  our  national  colours  predominate 
but  here  and  there  are  also  the  Hungarian  tricolour  and 
the  Turkish  crescent.  As  we  stand  on  the  dock  at  East 
Albany  and  look  across  the  river,  the  city  seems  to  be  in 
gala  attire.  His  honour,  the  Mayor,  with  local  dignita- 
ries and  leading  citizens,  are  gathered  in  a  group  that  is 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  train  bringing  the  great  Hun- 
garian. Behind  them  are  the  young  men  of  the  "Hunga- 
rian Liberty  Association,"  of  which  I  am  the  President, 


Kossuth  at  Albany  99 

William  Barnes  the  Treasurer,  and  Rabbi  Wise  the 
Chaplain. 

The  train  rolls  in,  and  is  greeted  with  cheers;  Kossuth 
presents  himself,  and  descends  from  it.  He  looks  digni- 
fied and  impressive,  with  iron  grey  hair  and  full  beard, 
as  he  bows  courteously  to  the  crowd.  He  holds  in  his 
hand  the  broad-brimmed  soft  hat,  which  is  already  the 
symbol  of  European  revolutionists,  and  which  is  to  be- 
come shortly  the  fashionable  headgear  in  America,  and 
is  known  as  the  "Kossuth  hat." 

Some  of  his  companions  or  staff  officers  wear  a  feather 
or  a  bit  of  gold  braid  on  it,  and  in  their  costume  are  indi- 
cations of  military  rank,  but  most  of  them  are  in  ordinary 
civilian  dress. 

Interchange  of  greetings  and  introductions  follow. 
Then  all  cross  the  fiver  in  a  ferryboat.  Landing  near 
the  Delavan  House,  we  find  an  improvised  procession 
waiting  to  escort  him  up  State  Street  to  the  Capitol  Hill. 

A  crowd  is  gathered  there  also — too  numerous  to  allow 
all  to  enter  the  building.  So  Governor  Hunt  comes  out 
to  the  top  of  the  broad  steps,  and  gives  his  address  of 
welcome,  which  receives  suitable  response. 

The  national  guest  is  lodged  at  Congress  Hall,  just 
adjoining  the  Capitol.  After  paying  my  respects  to  him 
and  his  companions,  I  visit  a  parlour  where  the  represen- 
tatives of  "the  Press"  are  gathered.  There  I  meet 
several  acquaintances,  among  them  James  W.  Simonton 
of  the  Times  (and  afterward  head  of  the  Associated  Press). 
There  is  a  busy  rustling  of  pens  and  paper  as  they  are 
preparing  their  notes  of  the  day's  proceedings.  Two  or 
three  of  them  tell  me  that  they  are  accompanying  the 
"Governor,"  as  they  call  him,  in  his  whole  tour  through 
the  States.  They  share  in  the  popular  enthusiasm,  which 
they  are  so  busily  engaged  in  creating,  and  speak  of  him 
in  terms  of  warm  affection,  recounting  instances  of  his 


ioo  Kossuth  at  Albany 

tact,  address,  and  fascinating  eloquence.  He  is  always 
affable,  yet  on  the  whole  his  manner  is  grave  and  sad, 
as  it  well  may  be,  after  his  experience  of  the  rise  and  fall 
of  "the  Hungarian  republic." 

Our  American  people  have  always  been  interested  and 
warmly  sympathetic  with  any  European  nation  which 
they  believe  to  be  struggling  against  despotism;  and 
especially  if  it  announces  its  desire  for  republican  govern- 
ment. The  Greeks,  the  Poles,  the  French,  the  Italians, 
the  Spanish  have,  in  turn,  received  demonstrations  of  our 
sympathy,  and  some  of  our  more  impulsive  leaders  have 
urged  us  to  go  to  war  in  their  behalf. 

Of  Hungary  and  the  Hungarians  we  had  known  but 
little,  until  the  wave  of  revolutionary  outbreaks  began  to 
sweep  over  the  continental  nations  in  1848.  But  now  the 
newspapers  and  speakers  are  eagerly  read  or  listened  to, 
when  they  try  to  familiarize  us  with  hitherto  unknown 
localities  and  unpronounceable  names.  They  awaken 
our  admiration  for  military  heroes  and  eloquent  orators, 
who,  like  ourselves,  are  advocating  "Freedom." 

Kossuth 's  romantic  story  and  his  unavailing  struggle 
against  the  Austrian  and  Russian  Empires  appealed 
strongly  to  the  people  of  the  United  States.  His  imprison- 
ment, escape  and  exile,  the  refuge  and  shelter  afforded 
him  by  the  Turks,  his  rescue  and  voyage  to  us  in  an  Ameri- 
can frigate,  the  popular  outburst  of  welcome  that  greeted 
him  in  New  York  and  other  cities,  the  honours  extended 
to  him  at  Washington  and  the  State  capitals,  have  carried 
the  popular  enthusiasm  to  fever  heat,  and  he  is  the  hero 
of  the  hour. 

Even  after  the  Hungarian  Republic  had  become  a  dream 
of  the  past,  and  the  Hungarians  had  divided  into  varying 
political  groups,  finding  peace  at  last  under  the  Iron  Crown 
of  the  Dual  Empire,  a  permanent  impress  had  been  made 
upon  America  by  Kossuth's  visit  and  his  eventful  tour 


Kossuth  at  Albany  101 

and  his  appeals  for  "material  aid"  for  Hungary.  Hun- 
garian hats,  Hungarian  wine,  Hungarian  bands,  Hungarian 
music  and  dances  began  to  come  in  vogue.  Hungarian  his- 
tory is  to  be  studied.  A  steady  flow  of  Hungarian  im- 
migration has  set  in,  which  still  continues  and  is  adding 
to  our  complex  nationality,  which  absorbs  and  assimilates 
so  many  diverse  elements. 

In  his  subsequent  visits  to  Albany,  although  there  is 
no  longer  such  a  rush  to  see  him,  yet  the  desire  to  hear 
him  is  unabated.  Halls  and  churches  are  crowded  when 
he  is  to  speak.  Our  society  gives  him  a  welcome  in  the 
Young  Men's  Association  Rooms.  The  tickets  of  admis- 
sion are  little  red,  white,  and  green  cards,  the  Hungarian 
tricolour.  All  these,  are  sold,  and  several  thousand  dol- 
lars are  raised  as  a  contribution  to  the  fund  for  "mate- 
rial aid"  for  the  revolutionists. 

He  is  singularly  fluent,  with  hardly  a  trace  of  accent, 
though  occasionally  a  quaint  idiom  or  phrase  reminds  the 
hearer  of  his  foreign  birth,  or  his  Shakespearian  studies. 
He  is  ready  and  effective  in  illustration.  At  one  meeting 
he  was  repelling  the  charge  that  he  was  the  arch-agitator  and 
responsible  for  all  these  revolutionary  outbreaks  in  Europe. 
"No,"  said  he,  turning  toward  the  great  clock  that  hung 
on  the  wall  behind  him.  "No,  I  am  only  like  yonder 
clock.  I  tell  the  hour;  I  make  not  the  time." 

Since  1848,  European  affairs  had  been  arresting  Ameri- 
can attention.  Now  the  news  of  Louis  Napoleon's  coup 
d'etat,  its  details,  and  its  probable  results  are  eagerly 
studied.  Kossuth  is  felt  to  be  a  representative  of  Euro- 
pean republicans,  and  the  demonstrations  in  his  honour 
are  expressive,  not  merely  of  sympathy  for  the  Hunga- 
rians, but  of  protest  against  despotism  everywhere. 

In  April,  after  a  trip  to  the  South,  he  returns  to  Wash- 
ington. A  letter  from  my  mother  to  her  sister  describes  his 
social  experiences,  and  a  visit  with  him  to  Mount  Vernon. 


102  Kossuth  at  Albany 

At  that  period,  the  neglected  grounds  and  dilapidated 
buildings  and  fences  there  were  beginning  to  call  for 
public  attention,  but  no  governmental  action  had  yet 
been  taken  for  their  preservation. 

"  WASHINGTON,  iyth  April,  1852. 

"The  Kossuths  have  come  and  gone.  When  they  left 
us  before,  Kossuth  was  the  orator  who  won  our  hearts 
by  his  genius.  He  was  surrounded  with  a  large  suite  of 
followers,  who  seemed  to  regard  him  as  a  superior  being. 
He  had  hope  and  confidence  in  the  professions  of  men  who 
had  power  to  assist  him.  His  rich  habiliments  attracted 
the  gaze  of  the  multitude.  He  was  going  to  make  new 
friends. 

"He  returns  from  the  South  where  he  has  met  little 
favour,  to  the  politicians  of  Washington  whose  favour  has 
grown  cold,  with  his  hopes  diminished,  his  followers  re- 
duced from  seventeen  to  four,  his  own  dress  even  changed 
with  the  change  of  his  prospects.  The  Kossuth  who  has 
left  us  today  is  a  gentle,  brave  man  who  will  toil  on  for 
Hungary. 

"Monday  Evening. 

1 '  Mesdames  Kossuth  and  Pulszky  came  to  see  us.  They 
said  they  had  thought  a  great  deal  about  us  while  at  the 
South  and  Madame  Pulszky  added  in  a  whisper,  'We 
think  you  are  right  about  slavery. ' 

"Thursday  evening  was  our  dinner.  We  had,  as  usual, 
a  singular  combination  of  ultra-Southern  men,  'Free- 
Soilers,'  and  Democratic  members  of  Congress.  Messrs. 
Mangum  and  Hale  of  the  Senate,  Mr.  Fisher,  editor  of 
the  Southern  Press,  Mr.  Morehead,  of  North  Carolina, 
and  New  York  members.  A  very  sociable  time  they 
had. 

"Kossuth  sat  on  my  right  and  Mr.  Morehead  on  my 


Kossuth  at  Albany  103 

left.  Kossuth  did  not  talk  much,  and  when  he  did  ad- 
dressed his  conversation  chiefly  to  me.  Mr.  Fisher,  who 
is  called  a  'disunionist, '  said,  across  the  table,  '  Governor 
Kossuth,  don't  you  think  that  some  portion  of  the  human 
family  is  decidedly  inferior  to  the  others?" 

"Kossuth  replied  with  his  usual  gentle  gravity:  'If 
that  is  the  case,  I  think  it  should  teach  us  humility,  and 
make  us  more  strenuous  in  our  endeavours  to  assist  the 
weaker  portion. ' 

"  Mr.  Fisher  then  alluded  to  the  African  race. 

"Kossuth  disclaimed  any  particular  allusion  to  them, 
but  said  he  spoke  for  the  oppressed  generally. 

"It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  when  our  guests  departed, 
previous  to  which  Henry  had  arranged  that  we  and  Mr. 
Fisher  should  accompany  the  Governor  to  Mount  Vernon 
the  next  day. 

"  So  at  nine  o'clock  we  all  met  on  the  wharf  with  nearly 
a  hundred  other  persons  going  in  the  same  direction. 
Madame  Pulszky,  who  is  a  very  charming  person,  was  not 
well  enough  to  go.  Madame  Kossuth  summoned  up  reso- 
lution to  go  without  her  interpreter.  I  was  glad  to  see 
her  once  alone.  She  has  learned  a  little,  very  little, 
English,  which  with  the  little  French  I  could  command 
enabled  us  to  have  some  conversation.  She  looked  very 
pretty  with  her  white  muslin  bonnet  and  green  veil. 

"We  soon  arrived  at  Mount  Vernon.  Mr.  Fisher  went 
up  to  the  house  to  propitiate  the  proprietor,  while  we  went 
to  the  tomb.  Kossuth  took  the  arm  of  his  wife  and  went 
with  her  to  the  door  of  the  vault. 

"They  were  considerably  in  advance  of  us,  and  when 
we  came  up,  they  were  both  coming  away,  with  tears 
streaming  from  their  eyes.  Madame  was  more  excited 
than  I  had  ever  seen  her.  She  caught  me  by  the  arm  and 
hurried  me  back  to  the  tomb  talking  French  with  great 
earnestness.  'It  is  tres  triste,'  as  Madame  said.  'It  is 


104  Kossuth  at  Albany 

a  shame, '  said  a  rough-looking  young  man,  '  to  leave  him 
in  such  a  place. ' 

"They  invited  our  party  to  one  room  in  the  house 
which  is  not  generally  open  to  visitors.  It  contains  the 
library  of  Washington,  a  plaster  bust,  and  some  family 
pictures.  Washington's  large  Bible  was  on  the  table. 
The  books  were  mixed  up  with  many  others  of  modern 
date.  I  could  not  but  remark  that  most  of  the  old  library 
was  the  counterpart  of  our  father's. 

"It  seemed  difficult  for  Kossuth  to  make  up  his  mind 
to  go,  but  again  the  bell  summoned  us  to  the  boat,  and 
we  joined  the  other  passengers. 

"Thomas,  who  had  all  this  time  been  perambulating 
the  grounds  with  a  basket  of  provisions  which  we  brought 
from  home,  now  spread  some  napkins  on  some  chairs  and 
produced  the  cold  ducks,  bread  and  butter,  oranges,  and 
champagne.  As  there  were  only  plates  sufficient  for 
the  ladies,  Kossuth,  Henry,  and  Mr.  Fisher  took  theirs  in 
their  fingers,  so  we  made  a  picnic.  We  were  joined  in 
this  by  young  Calhoun,  son  of  John  C.  Calhoun,  a  very 
gentlemanly  and  agreeable  person,  who  was  one  of  the 
passengers. 

"Had  not  the  Kossuth  party  absorbed  us  so  much, 
we  should  have  found  other  interesting  company.  There 
was  Dr.  Bellows  of  New  York,  and  his  sister,  and  Grace 
Greenwood.  We  parted  at  the  wharf  intending  to  go  and 
see  Madame  Pulszky  in  the  evening. 

"We  went  to  the  National  in  the  evening.  Found 
Kossuth  had  gone  out  with  the  intention  of  coming  to 
our  house.  I  took  my  leave,  promising  to  go  to  the  cars 
this  morning  to  say  '  good-bye. ' 

"Madame  Pulszky  was  still  too  ill  to  travel,  I  thought, 
but  we  found  her  at  the  depot  this  morning  looking  very- 
ill,  but  going  on,  notwithstanding. 

"We  had  only  time  to  take  a  hurried  leave,  a  kiss  from 


The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  105 

the  ladies  and  a  warm  grasp  of  the  hand  from  the  gentle- 
men, and  they  were  gone.  When  and  where,  if  ever,  shall 
we  meet  again? 

"Mrs.  Horace  Mann,  who  had  walked  over  to  the  depot 
with  her  little  boys,  was  the  only  other  person  who  came 
to  pay  them  the  compliment  of  taking  leave." 

The  Fugitive  Slave  Law.  "The  Slavery  Question  is 
settled!"  Upon  this  the  majority  of  each  of  the  two 
great  parties  seemed  agreed  in  1851.  Flags  were  hoisted, 
salutes  fired,  and  meetings  held  in  the  large  cities,  where 
orators  vied  with  drums  and  guns  in  loud  congratulations. 

That  the  slavery  question,  which  had  threatened  to 
disturb  the  national  peace,  was  finally  laid  at  rest  many 
believed;  and  many  more  who  did  not  believe,  deemed  it 
politic  and  prudent  to  affect  that  they  did.  Engravings 
and  biographies  were  published,  testifying  public  grati- 
tude to  the  great  patriotic  "men  who  had  saved  the 
Union."  Histories  were  written  detailing  how  the  great 
peril  of  disunion,  imminent  in  1851,  was,  in  that  year,  by 
Congressional  wisdom,  happily  ended  for  ever.  Some  of 
these  volumes,  still  extant,  were  for  years  used  in  schools, 
teaching  the  boys  lessons  that  they  afterwards  unlearned 
at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  put  in  force,  and  announced 
to  be  "a  law  of  the  land,  to  which  every  good  citizen  owes 
obedience."  Hardly  was  the  ink  dry  with  which  it  had 
been  signed,  when  slaveholders  on  the  border  who  knew 
the  whereabouts  of  their  former  "chattels"  began  to 
invoke  its  aid  for  their  recapture. 

If  the  statesmen  who  adopted  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law 
as  a  panacea  to  repress  the  "agitation  of  slavery"  had 
been  seeking,  instead,  for  one  to  inflame  that  "agitation" 
to  its  highest  pitch,  they  could  hardly  have  found  a  more 
effective  instrument.  It  went  through  the  land  like  the 


io6  The  Fugitive  Slave  Law 

flaming  war  torch  of  the  Highlands,  summoning  clansmen 
to  battle.  It  roused  even  the  apathetic  and  lukewarm. 
They  might  ignore  slavery  in  distant  territories,  but  here 
was  a  command  to  personally  become  slave  catchers. 

It  brought  the  slavery  question  home  to  every  Northern 
hearthstone.  Clergymen  and  lawyers  who  counselled 
"obedience  to  the  law  because  it  was  a  law"  did  not  feel 
enthusiasm  when  called  upon  to  take  a  hand  in  its  enforce- 
ment. It  was  one  thing  to  tacitly  acquiesce  in  slavery  as 
an  inheritance  from  Biblical  times  and  the  mother  country, 
and  quite  another  to  join  in  the  chase  with  bloodhounds. 
It  was  one  thing  to  stand  and  declaim  about  the  "Com- 
promises of  the  Constitution,"  and  quite  another  to  deny 
the  prayer  of  the  trembling  fugitive  at  the  door  for  food, 
shelter,  and  escape.  But  the  "Great  Peace  Measure" 
was  relentless  on  this  point.  It  commanded  "every  good 
citizen"  to  assist  the  deputy  marshal  in  his  slave  catching 
whenever  called  upon,  and  imposed  fine  and  imprisonment 
on  him  who  refused  to  obey. 

Experience  of  the  working  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law 
was  the  first  thing  that  opened  the  eyes  of  many  to  the 
discovery  that  possibly  Governor  Seward  might  be  right 
in  thinking  there  was  some  "higher  law"  to  be  obeyed 
than  this  brutal  statute. 

Soon  there  was  a  fugitive  slave  case  in  New  York,  in 
which  the  poor  man  was  seized  while  at  work  at  his  trade, 
hurried  into  a  back  room,  tried  in  haste,  delivered  to  the 
agent,  handcuffed,  and  carried  off  to  Baltimore,  without 
opportunity  even  to  say  good-bye  to  his  wife  and  children. 

There  was  a  similar  case  in  Philadelphia,  and  another 
in  Indiana. 

Then  came  the  spectacle  of  Henry  Long,  a  captured 
fugitive,  marched  down  to  Jersey  City  ferry,  under  guard 
of  two  hundred  policemen,  amid  a  crowd  of  thousands. 

Ten  days  later  it  was  announced  that  he  had  been 


The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  107 

"sold  at  auction  in  Richmond  for  $750,  to  a  Georgia 
trader,  to  be  taken  farther  South,"  and  that  "there was 
great  applause"  at  the  sale. 

In  another  case  in  Philadelphia,  a  woman  who  had  been 
twenty-two  years  free,  and  had  five  children,  was  arrested 
as  a  fugitive  slave. 

At  Columbia,  in  Pennsylvania,  William  Smith  was 
seized  as  a  fugitive,  and  while  endeavouring  to  escape  was 
shot,  dying  instantly. 

A  kidnapper  seized  a  free  coloured  girl  in  Nottingham 
and  carried  her  off  to  a  Baltimore  slave  pen.  A  coloured 
man  who  went  on  there  to  testify  to  her  having  been  born 
free  and  to  her  never  having  been  a  slave  was  found  next 
day  hanging  dead,  on  a  tree  by  the  roadside. 

But  of  all  these  cases,  none  stirred  the  popular  heart 
more  deeply  than  those  in  which  the  national  administra- 
tion took  a  hand  to  enforce  the  obnoxious  law.  At 
Boston,  Shadrach,  a  coloured  waiter,  was  seized,  taken 
before  the  commissioner,  and  duly  remanded  to  custody, 
when  a  crowd  of  coloured  men  rescued  him,  and  sent  him 
off  to  Canada. 

Thereupon  the  President  issued  a  proclamation,  com- 
manding all  public  officers  and  calling  on  all  citizens  to 
"aid  in  quelling  this  and  similar  combinations,"  and  to 
"assist  in  capturing  the  above-named  persons,"  in  which 
business  the  Secretaries  of  War  and  of  the  Navy  directed 
the  army  and  navy  to  help. 

Later  came  the  case  of  Sims,  who,  though  defended  by 
some  of  the  best  legal  talent  in  Boston,  was  surrendered 
to  his  master,  marched  to  the  Long  Wharf,  in  a  hollow 
square  of  three  hundred  armed  policemen,  while  the  militia 
were  posted  in  Faneuil  Hall,  chains  stretched  across  the 
front  of  the  State  House,  and  the  church  bells  tolled  as 
for  a  funeral. 

Then  there  was  the  romantic  story  of  William  and  Ellen 


io8  The  Fugitive  Slave  Law 

Craft,  escaped  slaves  from  Georgia.  Ellen,  whose  com- 
plexion was  light,  had  dressed  herself  to  personate  a  young 
planter,  going  north  for  his  health,  attended  by  William, 
who  personated  a  family  servant,  greatly  devoted  to  his 
young  master.  When  the  slave  catchers  tracked  them 
to  Boston,  Rev.  Theodore  Parker  gave  them  refuge  in 
his  house.  He  said:  "For  two  weeks  I  wrote  my  sermons 
with  a  sword  in  the  open  drawer  under  my  inkstand,  and 
a  pistol  in  the  flap  of  my  desk,  loaded  and  ready  for  de- 
fence, until  they  could  be  put  on  board  a  vessel  for  Eng- 
land." 

There  was  a  case  in  Chicago,  another  at  Poughkeepsie, 
another  at  Westchester,  and  another  at  Wilkesbarre,  each 
attended  with  circumstances  that  awakened  popular 
detestation  of  what  the  newspapers  called  "Man  Hunting 
on  the  Border." 

At  Buffalo,  Judge  Conkling  granted  a  writ  of  habeas 
corpus  to  an  alleged  fugitive.  His  counsel,  Talcott  and 
Hawley,  moved  his  discharge  for  lack  of  evidence.  It 
was  granted,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  on  his  way  to 
Canada. 

At  Syracuse,  Jerry  McHenry  was  seized  and  carried 
before  the  commissioner,  but  a  crowd  surrounded  the 
court-room,  broke  in  the  doors,  rushed  in,  overpowered 
the  officers,  and  rescued  the  prisoner.  Among  those  who 
participated  in  this  riot  were  Gerrit  Smith,  Rev.  Samuel 
J.  May,  and  other  leading  citizens.  Eighteen  of  them 
were  indicted,  and  summoned  to  appear  at  Auburn  to 
answer  for  their  offence.  They  were  escorted  by  a  hund- 
red of  the  prominent  people  of  the  place.  Being  required 
to  give  sureties,  my  father  headed  the  list,  which  was  soon 
filled  with  well-known  names. 

At  Christiania,  in  Pennsylvania,  when  the  officers  and 
slaveowner,  with  the  commissioner's  warrant,  came  to  a 
house  where  a  fugitive  was  concealed,  they  fired  into  it. 


The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  109 

The  fire  was  returned,  the  owner  killed,  his  companions 
put  to  flight,  and  the  fugitive  escaped. 

The  news  of  these  seizures  and  conflicts  alarmed  all 
fugitives,  some  of  whom  had  been  residing  for  years  in 
supposed  security  in  the  free  States.  Canada  was  the 
only  place  of  refuge,  and  they  began  to  pour  into  it.  They 
crossed  at  Detroit,  and  at  Niagara,  and  at  Ogdensburg. 
Of  those  in  New  England,  some  went  up  through  Vermont, 
some  fled  to  Maine  and  crossed  over  into  New  Brunswick. 
Settlements  sprung  up  in  Canada,  composed  of  negroes 
escaped  from  slavery.  The  one  at  Chatham  was  espe- 
cially well  known,  and  was  a  favourite  point  for  those  who 
fled  from  Kentucky,  through  Ohio  and  Michigan. 

It  is  to  the  credit  of  human  nature,  that  few  men  were 
zealous  in  executing  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  except  those 
who  were  paid  for  it.  Even  those  who  thought  it  ought 
to  be  obeyed  did  not  hurry  themselves  to  obey  it.  Many 
such  would  give  food  and  shelter  to  a  casual  coloured  man, 
and  even  point  out  the  road  leading  north,  while  prudently 
refraining  from  asking  any  questions  that  might  prove 
embarrassing  to  both  parties.  Others  devoted  time  and 
money  to  help  the  fugitives.  Free  coloured  people  in 
the  Northern  cities  were  especially  active  in  this  work. 

The  mysterious  rapidity  with  which  fugitive  slaves 
were  smuggled  through  the  States  and  "across  the  line" 
soon  gained  for  the  system  the  name  of  "  The  Underground 
Railroad."  The  passengers  on  that  road  increased  every 
month ;  and  its  managers  devised  new  facilities  for  travel. 
A  poor  wretch,  with  his  little  bundle,  knowing  nothing 
of  his  route,  save  that  he  must  hide  by  day,  and  follow 
the  north  star  by  night,  would  find  himself  urged  and 
helped  forward  by  friendly  hands,  until  he  stood,  without 
knowing  how,  on  British  soil. 

Sometimes  they  came  in  squads  of  four  or  five,  or  even 
a  dozen.  Stories  almost  incredible  were  told.  One  man 


no  The  Fugitive  Slave  Law 

escaped  in  a  hogshead.  One  woman  had  come  on  in  a 
box,  and  was  nearly  suffocated  when  it  was  piled  among 
the  merchandise  on  a  wharf.  One  had  come  in  the  straw 
of  a  farm  wagon;  another  by  hanging  on  underneath  the 
cars;  several  in  the  holds  of  coasting  vessels.  But  the 
majority  had  fled  on  foot,  looking  hourly  behind  them  for 
the  master  and  his  hounds,  and  before  them  for  the  north 
star  and  liberty. 

As  the  Evening  Journal  was  the  chief  anti-slavery  paper 
at  the  capital,  we  had  many  visitors  and  appeals  for  aid 
from  "the  Underground."  Stephen  Myers  was  a  coloured 
man  of  some  prominence,  having  been  head  waiter  at  the 
Executive  Mansion,  and  chief  steward  on  Hudson  River 
steamboats.  He  was  a  frequent  caller. 

One  morning  he  slipped  in  mysteriously,  and  asked 
George  Dawson  and  me  to  step  out  into  the  back  passage- 
way of  the  office.  There  we  found  a  dozen  or  more  young 
coloured  men,  "lined  up"  against  the  wall.  "These," 
said  Stephen,  pointing  to  them  with  pride,  "all  comes  on 
last  night,  and  all  goes  on  to  Canady  this  morning." 

Dawson,  with  mock  seriousness,  said:  "Oh,  boys,  now 
don't  you  think  you'd  better  all  go  back?" 

The  grin  of  white  teeth  that  flashed  down  the  line 
showed  that  their  perils  had  not  dulled  their  sense  of 
humour. 

One  evening  as  I  sat  alone  at  work,  in  the  editorial  room, 
a  tall,  ragged  black  man  came  softly  in,  and  holding  out 
a  dirty  scrap  of  paper  said:  "Be  this  for  you,  Mas'r?" 

I  took  it,  and  found  it  pencilled  simply  with  the  words : 
"Help  this  poor  fellow  along.  He  has  his  ticket."  It 
was  not  signed,  and  was  addressed  merely  to  "Leonard," 
which  someone  reading  it  to  him  had  mistaken  for  "Sew- 
ard,"  and  so  had  directed  him  to  my  office.  He  was 
very  reluctant  to  tell  anything  about  his  antecedents  or 
his  journey,  but  said  "he  was  from  Ole  Virginny,"  where 


Van  Zandt  and  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  in 

"some  men"  had  put  him  on  a  boat,  in  which  he  came 
to  New  York.  There  "some  more  men"  put  him  on 
another  boat,  in  which  he  came  to  Albany.  I  told  him 
I  would  show  him  the  railroad  station. 

"No,  'fore  God,  Mas'r,  don't  take  me  to  no  railroad 
here.  Dey  said  dere  might  be  marshalses  watching  at 
the  station,  and  that  I  was  to  walk  sixteen  mile,  to  some 
place  dey  called  Snackaday.  Does  yo'  know  de  road  to 
Snackaday,  Mas'r?" 

I  told  him  I  would  show  him.  So  we  walked  up  the 
hill,  stopping  to  get  him  a  bite  on  the  way,  and  he  started 
off  on  the  Schenectady  turnpike,  which  doubtless  led  to 
his  destination. 

"Stephen,"  I  inquired  once  of  the  Underground  mana- 
ger, "where  do  you  get  these  contributions  from?  I 
suppose  you  go  to  old  Whigs  and  Republicans.  Any 
Democrats?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Frederick,"  he  answered,  "some  of  the 
Democrats  is  my  best  contributors.  They  don't  ask  no 
questions  neither,  like  Republicans  does,  about  what  I 
does  with  the  money.  The  Judge  says  he's  willing  to 
help  poor  folks,  but  he  don't  want  to  hear  no  details." 

"So  the  Judge  contributes,  does  he?  But  I  suppose 
you  don't  go  near  the  Deputy  Marshal?  It  is  his  business 
to  arrest  fugitives." 

"That  is  just  what  he  says  to  me,  sir.  He  gave  me  a 
five  dollar  bill,  and  told  me  to  keep  out  of  his  sight.  Yes, 
sir,  and  I'se  a-earning  that  money." 

Van  Zandt  and  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  John  Van 
Zandt,  who  lived  not  far  from  Cincinnati,  was  an  old 
farmer,  poor  and  uneducated,  but  honest,  worthy,  and 
benevolent.  He  had  passed  the  earlier  part  of  his  life 
in  Kentucky;  and  from  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  there, 
had  become  a  hearty  hater  of  slavery. 


ii2  Van  Zandt  and  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin" 

The  Ohio  River  was  well  understood  by  slaves  to  be 
the  dividing  line  between  bondage  and  freedom;  and  many 
were  led  to  cross  that  barrier  by  opportunity,  courage,  or 
despair.  When  any  ragged  trembling  fugitive  knocked 
at  John  Van  Zandt 's  door,  it  was  not  in  John  Van  Zandt 's 
heart  to  refuse  him  food,  shelter,  and  help  on  his  way  to 
Canada. 

One  night  in  April,  1842,  nine  poor  wretches  risked  their 
lives  in  an  attempt  at  liberty.  Among  them  were  a 
husband  and  wife,  and  three  small  children.  They  got 
across  the  river  and  as  far  as  Walnut  Hill,  two  miles 
beyond.  Here  they  were  met  by  John  Van  Zandt.  He 
had  been  to  the  Cincinnati  market,  with  a  wagon  load 
of  farm  produce,  and  was  returning  home.  He  heard 
their  story,  pitied  them,  told  them  to  get  into  his  now 
empty  wagon,  and  decided  to  try  to  carry  them  toward 
Lebanon.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  horses' 
heads  were  turned  northward.  One  of  the  fugitives,  who 
could  drive,  was  intrusted  with  the  reins;  and  the  other 
eight  huddled  together  in  the  wagon. 

But  there  was  money  to  be  made  on  the  highways,  in 
those  days  in  Ohio,  and  plenty  of  enterprising  knaves 
ready  to  turn  slave  catchers.  Early  in  the  morning  a 
gang  of  this  class  met  the  wagon,  about  fourteen  miles 
north  of  Cincinnati.  They  knew  nothing;  suspected 
everything.  They  were  armed,  and  they  at  once  seized 
and  stopped  the  horses.  Andrew,  the  driver,  had  just 
time  to  jump  and  run.  The  others  were  obliged  to  sur- 
render at  discretion.  Before  long  they  were  travelling 
back  to  slavery. 

A  futile  attempt  was  made  to  punish  the  slave  catchers, 
by  indicting  them  for  kidnapping.  But  public  sentiment 
was  on  their  side,  and  they  walked  out  of  court  with  the 
proud  consciousness  that  they  had  "upheld  the  Constitu- 
tion and  laws,"  and  made  $450  by  it. 


Van  Zandt  and  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  113 

Eight  slaves  had  been  recovered,  but  one  had  escaped. 
That  "pound  of  flesh"  was  now  to  be  exacted  through 
the  courts  of  the  United  States.  Andrew's  owner,  Whar- 
ton  Jones  by  name,  brought  suit  against  John  Van  Zandt. 

Salmon  P.  Chase  became  Van  Zandt 's  counsel.  The 
case  was  tried  before  Judge  McLean,  at  Cincinnati,  in 
July,  1842.  The  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  against  Van 
Zandt  for  $1200  damages.  A  like  verdict  was  rendered 
against  him  for  $500  more,  the  penalty  for  violating  the 
Fugitive  Law  of  1793. 

Motion  was  made  for  a  new  trial  and  arrest  of  judg- 
ment. The  judges  of  the  Circuit  Court  were  divided  in 
opinion  upon  questions  stated  in  the  argument,  and  the 
cause  was  carried  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States. 

Van  Zandt  was  poor,  and  could  not  meet  the  cost  of  the 
trial.  But  the  case  had  begun  to  attract  some  attention, 
and  a  small  amount  was  contributed  by  friends,  though 
it  proved  not  enough  to  cover  the  actual  expenses  of  the 
case.  My  father  was  solicited  to  take  part  in  conducting 
it,  and  cheerfully  assented.  Both  he  and  Chase  gave  their 
services  without  compensation. 

In  their  arguments  before  the  court,  they  took  the 
ground  that  the  law  of  1793  was  in  conflict  with  the  Or- 
dinance of  1787  under  which  Ohio  was  organized,  and 
which  enacted  that  slavery  or  involuntary  servitude  should 
never  exist  there.  They  held  that  the  slave  law  was,  so 
far  as  it  affected  the  questions  before  the  court,  unconsti- 
tutional and  void. 

With  their  usual  grave  deliberation  the  judges  took  the 
case  under  consideration.  But  when  the  decision  was 
finally  promulgated,  it  was  against  Van  Zandt.  Judg- 
ment for  the  penalty  was  entered  against  him  in  the  court 
below.  Impoverished  and  embarrassed  by  the  long  liti- 
gation, he  never  recovered  from  its  effects.  He  died  a  few 


H4  Van  Zandt  and  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin" 

years  later,  probably  without  ever  dreaming  that  the 
whole  system  of  law  under  which  he  suffered  would  so 
soon  be  swept  from  the  statute  book. 

When  the  "Compromise  Measures"  of  1850  were 
adopted  by  Congress,  both  the  great  parties  formally 
gave  them  their  approval  in  conventions,  and  the  general 
public,  weary  of  the  long  debate,  acquiesced  in  them  as 
being,  however  distasteful,  at  least  a  settlement  of  the 
long-standing  controversy  over  slavery.  Most  of  the 
measures  were  regarded  with  apathy  if  not  approval, 
and  with  the  hope  of  future  peace  between  North  and 
South. 

But  there  was  one  of  them  that  speedily  dispelled  any 
such  illusion.  That  was  the  new  Fugitive  Slave  Law. 
It  added  new  pains  and  penalties  to  the  law  of  1793,  al- 
ready drastic  enough;  and  it  practically  required  every 
citizen  to  become  a  slave  catcher,  when  called  upon. 
Naturally,  it  raised  a  storm  of  indignation  among  the 
Northern  people.  Press  and  pulpit  joined  in  denouncing 
it.  Meetings  were  held  to  express  abhorrence.  Orators 
like  Wendell  Phillips  anathematized  it,  and  even  the 
pea'ceful  "Quaker  poet"  Whittier  made  it  the  theme  of 
his  impassioned  verse. 

I  Dr.  Bailey,  the  editor  of  the  National  Era,  an  anti- 
slavery  paper  at  Washington,  of  course  devoted  many 
columns  to  the  subject.  He  asked  Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher 
Stowe,  already  well-known  in  literary  circles,  to  write 
something  for  the  Era. 

The  theme  was  one  that  appealed  to  her  sympathies. 
Her  residence  in  Cincinnati  had  given  her  an  insight  into 
life  in  the  slave  States,  in  contrast  with  the  free  ones. 
Accordingly  she  contributed  a  story  about  fugitive  slaves, 
basing  some  of  the  scenes  and  incidents  upon  those  of  the 
Van  Zandt  case,  and  others  upon  those  of  the  life  of  Josiah 
Henson.  In  the  story  she  portrayed  Van  Zandt  as  "  Hon- 


A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time       115 

est  old  John  Van  Trompe  "  and  Uncle  Si  Henson  as  "  Uncle 
Tom."  The  first  chapters  awakened  interest,  and  created 
a  demand  for  more.  So  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  was  evolved, 
running  serially  in  the  Era  for  several  months  of  1851 
and  1852. 

Then  it  was  published  in  book  form  in  Boston.  Among 
its  earliest  readers,  of  course,  were  Mr.  Chase  and  my 
father.  The  former,  as  he  laid  down  the  volume,  said: 
"That  book  is  Van  Zandt's  best  monument." 

The  publishers  found  the  demand  for  the  new  novel 
steadily  and  rapidly  growing.  Every  new  phase  of  the 
political  conflict  over  slavery  added  to  the  number  of  its 
readers.  Soon  it  was  read  and  talked  of  through  all  the 
North,  and  at  last  it  began  to  be  realized  by  the  public 
that  there  was  a  romance  destined  to  have  world-wide 
fame,  and  to  exert  an  influence  upon  history. 

I857- 

A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time.  We  are  lying  be- 
calmed in  the  August  sunshine,  off  the  Isle  d' Orleans  in 
the  river  St.  Lawrence,  which  here  begins  to  broaden  out 
to  the  dimensions  of  an  inland  sea.  Our  craft  is  the 
schooner  Emerence,  of  Quebec,  commanded  by  Captain 
Couillard  de  Beaumont. 

Until  quite  recently  she  was  a  fishing  schooner,  but  is 
now  promoted  to  the  dignity  of  a  gentleman's  yacht. 
Under  the  judicious  direction  of  our  friend,  Mr.  Duns- 
comb,  the  Collector  of  the  Port,  she  has  been  scrubbed  up, 
repaired,  partially  painted,  and  fully  equipped,  manned, 
and  provisioned  for  a  voyage  to  Anticosti  and  Labrador. 
She  is  rated  at  thirty  tons — not  much,  but  Columbus 
discovered  a  New  World  in  a  vessel  not  much  larger. 

She  flies  the  British  flag  and  has  no  other.  She  pos- 
sesses a  compass,  but  no  sextant  or  chronometer,  her 
officers  not  being  familiar  with  scientific  navigation,  but 


n6       A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time 

depending  on  their  native  powers  of  observation  to  ascer- 
tain their  position  and  reckoning. 

The  crew  consists  of  three,  who  share  the  work  about 
equally  between  them.  They  are  M.  le  Capitaine,  M. 
Pilot,  and  cet  homme.  The  latter  is  the  one  who  is  al- 
ways to  blame,  when  anything  is  lost  or  goes  wrong.  As 
the  Emerence  has  no  cargo,  they  occupy  the  hold  for  their 
quarters.  With  them  is  John,  the  cook,  who  presides 
at  the  galley.  He  is  able  to  fry  the  fish  we  catch,  and  to 
supplement  them  with  slapjacks. 

In  the  cabin  there  are  three  of  us,  my  father,  my  wife, 
and  myself.  The  cabin  is  only  twelve  feet  square,  with 
four  berths  in  it.  A  table,  a  lamp,  some  camp-stools, 
comprise  the  rest  of  the  furniture,  and  there  is  room  for 
no  more.  As  the  cabin  has  no  windows,  but  gets  air  and 
light  only  from  the  hatchway,  most  of  our  time  is  spent 
on  deck. 

Here  we  sit,  chatting  or  reading,  or  studying  the  shore 
through  the  telescope  lent  us  by  the  collector,  with  the 
help  of  the  charts  of  the  British  Admiralty. 

The  shore  is  a  puzzling  one.  It  does  not  seem  to  have 
towns,  with  stretches  of  farm  lands  between,  as  one  might 
expect,  but  rather  looks  like  one  long  line  of  little  white 
houses,  now  and  then  thickening  up  around  each  church 
spire.  Our  sailors  tell  us  of  their  names.  Here  is  St. 
Valier,  yonder  is  St.  Michel,  farther  on  is  St.  Pierre,  and 
largest  of  all  is  St.  Thomas. 

We  decide  to  go  ashore  to  inspect.  M.  le  Capitaine 
and  M.  Pilot  lower  the  boat  and  take  the  oars.  Cet 
homme  remains  on  board  to  watch  the  schooner. 

Arrived  at  the  wharf,  the  puzzle  begins  to  unravel  itself. 
There  is  one  long  road,  or  street,  or  boulevard,  running 
through  all  the  villages.  Along  this  road  stand  the  farm- 
houses at  intervals  of  perhaps  one  hundred  to  two  hundred 
feet. 


A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time       117 

But  these  long  and  narrow  farms  have  a  unique  advan- 
tage. The  family  in  each  house  enjoy  the  privileges  of 
living  both  in  the  town  and  in  the  country  at  the  same 
time.  The  owner  may  step  out  of  his  back  door  and  walk 
a  mile  or  two  over  his  own  domain,  through  his  gardens, 
his  fields,  and  his  woods.  Or,  if  he  steps  out  of  his  front 
door,  he  is  at  once  in  town,  within  call  of  his  neighbours, 
and  within  easy  walking  distance  of  shops,  stores,  offices, 
church,  and  school.  His  front  windows  look  out  upon 
the  boulevard  and  the  river.  His  back  windows  com- 
mand an  unbroken  landscape,  all  the  way  back  to  the 
mountains. 

Surely  it  was  French  ingenuity  and  taste  that 
devised  this  simple  plan  of  living  at  once  en  ville  and 
d  la  campagnel 

A  quaint,  old-fashioned  inn,  that  looks  as  if  it  might 
have  been  transported  bodily  from  Normandy,  is  near 
at  hand.  In  the  open  doorway  sits  a  comfortable  looking 
dame,  engaged  in  knitting,  whose  smile  of  welcome  as 
we  approach  intimates  that  she  is  the  hostess. 

In  reply  to  our  inquiry,  she  responds  in  the  tongue  of 
the  seventeenth  century  that  assuredly  we  may  have  din- 
ner, and  fortunately  it  is  at  present  the  very  hour. 

A  glance  into  the  spacious  apartment,  which  is  at  once 
parlour,  dining-room,  and  kitchen,  shows  us  the  pot-au-feu 
simmering  in  the  great  stone  fireplace,  and  the  table 
spread  in  front  of  it.  Few  modern  hotels  have  such  con- 
veniences for  dining,  and  so  close  at  hand.  Under  the 
windows  the  fruits  and  vegetables  are  growing,  beyond 
is  the  well  and  the  poultry  yard,  and  beyond  that  is  the 
St.  Lawrence,  stocked  with  the  finest  of  fish. 

When  our  repast  of  rural  luxuries  is  finished,  we  inquire 
if  any  conveyance  can  be  had  for  a  drive.  Madame 
thinks  not.  But  yes,  she  has  a  nephew,  a  farmer  living 
near,  who  has  a  horse  which  is  old,  but  safe,  and  a  cabri- 


ii8       A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time 

olet,  which  is  so,  also,  and  will  enable  us  to  view  the 
voisinage.  He  shall  be  sent  for. 

This  is  done,  and  presently  Pierre  appears,  with  the 
reliable  vehicle.  He  takes  us  up  and  down  the  road,  and 
proves  a  cheerful  and  voluble  conductor. 

It  is  like  one  continuous  village.  Its  different  portions 
are  named  from  their  respective  churches,  but  apparently 
there  are  no  dividing  lines  to  show  how  far  each  Saint 
claims  jurisdiction.  Pierre  knows  all  the  houses,  and  the 
names  of  their  occupants — some  of  whom  salute  us  from 
their  vine-clad  doorways. 

Yes,  he  and  all  the  rest  of  them  were  born  here.  Is 
there  work  for  all  ?  Work — plenty  of  it,  that  goes  without 
saying.  He  himself  cultivates  his  terrain.  His  brother 
Auguste  owns  the  schooner,  which  carries  the  produce  and 
the  fish  to  the  market  at  Quebec.  Others  have  their 
farms,  their  shops  and  offices. 

How  about  amusements?  "Oh,  at  evening,  all  the 
world  amuses  itself  after  its  own  fashion.  As  may  be 
seen,  we  live  near  our  neighbours.  We  meet,  we  eat  a 
little,  drink  a  little.  We  sing,  we  dance,  we  play  at  games, 
we  talk  politique  and  hurrah  for  Papineau!" 

"Doubtless,"  he  adds,  "Madame  and  the  Messieurs 
would  like  to  see  the  church  ?  It  is  open  all  days,  and  the 
good  Cur6  will  be  pleased  to  show  it  to  them.  A  fine 
man — though  he  grows  old,  which  is  a  pity." 

So  we  call  at  his  study.  The  good  Cure  comes  out, 
hospitably  invites  us  to  enter.  He  shows  us  the  mediaeval  - 
looking  edifice,  its  altarpiece,  statues,  windows,  and  deco- 
rations, and  tells  us  of  their  history,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
settlement  and  its  people. 

In  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  and  Louis  XV.,  these  lands 
were  granted  to  great  Seigneurs,  who  enjoyed  favour  at 
Court.  They  held  them,  according  to  old  French  custom, 
as  lords  and  owners  of  the  soil.  They  brought  out  from 


A  Village  of  Louis  XIV.'s  Time       119 

France  peasants  and  artisans  to  become  their  tenants. 
The  land  was  divided  into  these  long,  narrow  farms,  so  as 
to  accommodate  as  many  as  possible. 

All  that  is  now  changed,  of  course.  The  land-titles 
are  now  under  the  British  common  law.  The  inhabitants 
have  multiplied,  and  own  their  homes.  Villages  have 
grown  up.  Manufactures  and  trade  have  come  in.  But 
the  old  subdivisions,  to  a  considerable  extent,  remain, 
because  they  are  found  convenient,  and  sales  are 
few. 

We  tell  the  good  Cure  that  it  seems  to  us  an  ideal  plan 
for  a  rural  community,  and  ask  if  the  inhabitants  appre- 
ciate it. 

"Ah,  yes,  le  bon  Dieu  has  given  them  pleasant  homes, 
and  they  are  industrious,  peaceable,  and  thrifty.  We  who 
are  old  know  this,  and  are  content  to  spend  our  lives  here. 
But  the  young  people!  What  would  you?  They  must 
have  change.  They  want  to  see  the  world  and  seek  their 
fortunes.  They  go  to  Quebec,  and  Montreal,  perhaps  to 
Boston  and  New  York,  possibly  to  Paris,  or  to  dig  gold 
in  California." 

And  they  come  back? — "A  few  of  them,  but  not 
many." 

Pierre  then  drives  us  on,  past  dwellings,  shops,  and  ware- 
houses, and  pauses  before  the  doors  of  the  Female  Semi- 
nary, a  modern  building  with  modern  improvements, 
which  is  under  the  charge  of  gentle-voiced,  dark-robed 
Sisters,  having  their  chief  house  in  Montreal. 

They  show  us  their  airy  and  scrupulously  neat  rooms, 
and  call  up  some  of  the  pupils  to  display  their  proficiency. 
One  bright-eyed  girl  surprises  us  by  her  brilliant  rendering 
of  Landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  accompanying  herself 
at  the  piano. 

When  we  ask  where  she  is  from,  she  replies,  "Boston." 

The  Sister  placidly  remarks:  "Yes,  we  have  many  from 


I2O  Anticosti 

the  States,  whose  parents  prefer  our  quiet  ways  and 
healthful  climate,  and  the  kind  of  training  the  girls  receive 
here." 

Our  last  visit  is  at  a  stately  mansion,  the  summer  resi- 
dence of  Colonel  Tacher,  a  member  of  the  Royal  Council, 
whom  we  had  previously  met.  He  welcomes  us  with 
courteous  hospitality,  and  gives  us  further  information 
as  to  the  origin  and  history  of  the  province.  When  he 
learns  that  our  destination  is  "Labrador,"  he  laughingly 
remarks  that  we  are  more  venturesome  than  most  Cana- 
dians, in  visiting  that  wild  and  far-away  region,  so  little 
known  save  for  its  fish  and  furs. 

Once  more  on  board  the  Emerence,  we  look  back  to 
the  scene  of  Arcadian  simplicity  we  have  just  left.  One 
wonders  that  nobody  has  ever  thought  of  adopting  such 
a  plan  for  some  one  of  the  villages  we  are  constantly 
building  in  the  United  States.  Our  senior  member  says 
that  the  explanation  is  not  far  to  seek.  "These  were 
Frenchmen,  and  we  are  Americans.  They  inherit  habits 
that  are  the  growth  of  centuries.  We  like  to  change  ours 
every  year  or  two.  Fifty  years  from  now,  many  of  their 
characteristic  traits  will  have  passed  away  and  they  will 
be  like  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Anticosti.  "Anticosti?"  said  the  skipper,  who  was 
our  guest,  setting  down  his  glass  of  Jamaica  rum  and 
water,  "yes,  I  know  it.  Cruise  all  round  it.  Bad  coast. 
Dangerous.  Reefs  and  shallows  everywhere." 

"Not  an  easy  place  to  get  to,  then?" 

"It's  a  devilish  sight  easier  to  get  to  Anticosti,  than  it 
is  to  get  away  from  it.  Squalls  and  cross  currents  some- 
times get  you  ashore  there  before  you  know  it.  If 
you're  out  for  pleasure,  you'd  better  give  Anticosti  a 
wide  berth." 

"Anybody  living  there?" 


Anticosti  121 

"Nobody  but  the  people  at  the  wrecking  station. 
They  have  to  stay." 

"What  is  the  interior  like?" 

"Sort  of  wilderness  or  desert,  I  guess.  The  government 
leases  the  island  out,  though,  to  folks  who  want  to  hunt 
or  fish  there  in  summer.  Lots  of  game  there,  they  say, 
and  shoals  of  fish." 

"Pretty  good  whaling  ground  in  these  waters,  isn't  it? 
Two  came  up  close  to  our  bows,  one  morning,  and  our 
lookout  yelled,  thinking  they  would  stave  us  in." 

The  captain  of  the  whaler  here  joins  in  the  dialogue. 

"Why,  I  struck  a  fine  one  a  week  or  so  ago  out  here 
a  way,  a  big  fellow,  and  then  lost  him." 

"How  did  that  happen?" 

"Sea  was  rough,  and  he  ran  away  with  so  much  of  my 
line  that  it  looked  like  he'd  pull  us  under.  Had  to  cut 
the  line  and  let  him  go,  and  then  had  a  two-mile  pull  back 
to  the  ship.  I  calculate  he's  floating  around  dead  some- 
where, with  my  harpoon  in  him." 

"Think  you  killed  him?" 

"I  know  I  struck  him  good,  and  that  harpoon's  in  him 
yet.  Somebody  will  pick  him  up." 

"Who  does  he  belong  to,  if  he  is  found?" 

"He'll  belong  to  me,  if  I  can  get  a  sight  at  him,  and 
I'll  prove  it  by  my  harpoon.  If  you  happen  to  run  across 
him  on  your  cruise,  you'll  know  him  by  that." 

This  conversation  takes  place  in  August,  1857,  at 
Mingan  in  Labrador.  A  week  later,  we  have  bid  adieu 
to  Labrador  and  its  navigation  and  are  slowly  beating 
our  way,  against  a  head  wind,  up  the  St.  Lawrence  toward 
Quebec. 

Four  days  elapse  with  the  wind  still  "dead  ahead." 
Then  suddenly  it  rises  to  a  gale,  and  our  captain  decides 
to  put  about,  and  run  before  it  for  a  harbour. 

We  are  swept  back  in  an  afternoon  over  the  miles  we 


122  Anticosti 

had  so  tediously  gained,  until  at  7  o'clock  in  the  evening 
we  see  before  us  a  long  blue  line,  which  our  seamen  tell 
us  is  the  dreaded  coast  of  Anticosti. 

But  the  wind  falls  now,  almost  as  suddenly  as  it  arose, 
and  we  are  left  in  a  dead  calm.  We  are  powerless  to 
reach  an  anchorage  and  have  to  lie  outside  all  night, 
rolling  in  a  heavy  ground  swell. 

In  the  morning  the  "head  wind"  rises  again,  but  this 
time  very  gently  and  softly.  Captain  Beaumont  thinks 
we  may  be  able  to  get  in  far  enough  to  find  an  anchor- 
age, and  to  replenish  our  water  cask  and  supply  of  wood 
for  the  galley. 

"Is  there  any  harbour?" 

"No  good  one,  but  this  is  Ellis  Bay,  which  I  know.  It 
is  where  they  have  the  wrecking  station.  The  Emerence 
is  light,  with  no  cargo,  and  can  make  it." 

So  we  let  the  wind  blow  us  where  it  listeth.  Evidently 
we  are  to  visit  Anticosti,  like  some  other  folks,  whether 
we  will  or  no.  The  wind  carries  us  smoothly  over  the 
quiet  sea.  The  bay  opens  before  us,  broad  and  spa- 
cious and  shallow.  Skilful  handling  of  helm  and  sails 
take  us  between  reefs  and  over  bars,  although  the  sandy 
bottom  sometimes  seems  to  come  perilously  near  our 
keel. 

We  are  still  two  miles  from  shore  when  Captain  Beau- 
mont thinks  it  prudent  to  drop  anchor. 

The  scene  looks  wild  and  desolate.  But  there  seems 
to  be  another  vessel  already  at  anchor  in  the  bay — a 
schooner,  rather  larger  than  our  own. 

The  bay  is  semicircular  and  broad,  surrounded  by  a 
sandy  beach,  interspersed  here  and  there  with  jagged 
rocks.  The  woods  come  nearly  down  to  the  water's  edge. 
Behind  them  rises  a  range  of  low  hills. 

We  conclude  to  row  over  to  the  other  schooner,  and  to 
ask  for  some  fresh  cod,  mackerel,  or  the  like.  On  getting 


Anticosti  123 

alongside,  we  accost  the  prominent  person  on  board,  and 
ask  him  what  his  schooner  is  engaged  in. 

"I  am  a  Jack-of -all-trades,  sir,"  he  answers,  "confined 
to  no  one  thing." 

"Are  you  an  American?" 

"No,  I  belong  to  the  island." 

"Fishing  for  mackerel  now,  I  suppose?" 

"No,  I  am  the  lessee  of  the  island.  I  set  out  last  week 
for  Quebec,  but  on  the  way  I  fell  in  with  a  pretty  large 
whale,  and  he  being  too  heavy  for  my  boat  to  manage,  I 
towed  him  in  here  into  shoal  water,  and  am  now  cutting 
him  up  and  getting  out  the  oil." 

Sure  enough,  we  can  see  a  great,  greyish  mass  lying 
close  to  the  water's  edge,  and  can  discern  figures  of  men 
moving  actively  over  it  and  hacking  at  it.  A  strong, 
almost  sickening  greasy  smell  comes  off  from  it,  and  the 
smoke  is  rising  from  several  fires  along  the  beach. 

As  we  row  back,  the  lady  member  of  our  party  remarks 
that  this  is  probably  our  friend  Captain  Coffin's  lost 
whale.  We  dissent  but  she  replies  that  the  proprietor 
of  Anticosti  took  care  to  avoid  claiming  to  have  killed  or 
even  found  the  whale  alive.  But  what  do  women  know 
about  whaling? 

A  long  pull  across  the  bay  brings  us~to  the  vicinity  of 
the  stranded  leviathan.  He  is  sixty-five  feet  long — ten 
feet  longer  than  the  Emerence.  The  extreme  end  of  the 
tail  is  seventeen  feet  wide.  The  odour  of  the  oil  infects 
the  atmosphere  for  a  mile  around  it.  A  dozen  persons 
are  cutting  the  "blubber"  into  small  pieces,  from  which 
the  oil  gushes  out,  and  fills  kettles,  pots,  and  barrels. 
Nothing  is  heard,  seen,  touched,  or  smelt  of  that  is  not 
redolent  of  the  great  prize. 

We  land  at  a  respectful  distance  from  the  whale's 
carcass  and  endeavour  to  get  "betwixt  the  wind  and  his 
nobility." 


124  Anticosti 

There  are  wooden  signs  along  the  shore  for  the  benefit 
of  castaways,  which  indicate  the  paths  to  the  place  of 
refuge.  This  is  not  far  distant.  It  is  a  neat,  substantial, 
but  rough-looking  wooden  building,  unpainted  and  without 
any  attempt  at  architectural  decoration.  It  has  a  good 
chimney,  but  otherwise  might  pass  for  a  barn  or  shed. 

The  keeper,  a  Canadian  Frenchman,  is  gratified  to 
find  that  we  are  not  in  distress,  and  need  nothing,  unless 
we  can  get  a  good  "shore  dinner." 

This  he  promises  us,  and  says  there  is  a  room  or  two 
in  the  station  fitted  up  with  simple  furniture,  which  are 
reserved  for  the  use  of  hunters  or  visitors  like  ourselves. 

We  promptly  avail  ourselves  of  these.  Even  such 
quarters  look  luxurious  after  the  schooner's  cabin.  The 
bare  board  walls  have  been  covered  by  the  Frenchman 
with  pages  of  the  London  Illustrated  News,  ingeniously 
pasted  on,  so  that  the  lodger  lying  on  the  bed  can  see  all 
the  leading  events  of  the  world's  history  for  the  past  year 
or  two,  spread  before  him  like  a  panorama. 

Then  we  stroll  out  to  look  at  the  farm.  There  are  fifty 
acres — the  only  land  reclaimed  from  nature  on  the  island 
of  Anticosti.  There  is  or  was  a  potato  crop,  but  it  was 
blighted  by  frost  on  August  i8th. 

There  is  a  suggestive  feature  about  the  door  of  the 
house.  It  is  not  near  the  ground,  but  high  up,  and  en- 
trance to  it  is  gained  by  a  ladder.  At  night  this  ladder  is 
drawn  up,  to  prevent  incursions  by  bears,  wolves,  and 
other  midnight  marauders. 

There  are  other  lodgers  in  the  house  besides  ourselves. 
The  Frenchman  refers  to  them  as  "the  people  upstairs" 
but  does  not  mention  who  they  are.  Occasionally  a  lady 
appears  in  the  balcony,  or  descends  from  it  with  her  child- 
ren, and  we  soon  come  to  understand  that  she  is  a  privi- 
leged person. 

At  length  tea-time  comes.     The  lady  from  upstairs  is 


Anticosti  125 

introduced  to  us  by  the  lessee  of  Anticosti  as  his  wife, 
and  here  the  patroon  and  his  family  spend  the  summer. 
He  is  a  Scotchman,  of  pleasing  address  and  well-informed. 
His  wife  is  agreeable  and  ladylike. 

The  conversation,  of  course,  turns  on  the  great  prize. 
We  cautiously  tell  him  how  Captain  Coffin  of  Gaspe  had 
called  on  us,  at  Mingan,  to  enquire  about  a  whale  that 
he  had  killed  and  lost,  and  we  laughingly  remark  that 
some  of  us  were  simple  enough  to  imagine  that  this  might 
possibly  be  Captain  Coffin's  whale. 

He  inquires  the  date  of  Captain  Coffin's  report,  about 
the  harpoon,  etc.,  and  very  frankly  and  magnanimously 
says:  "Beyond  a  doubt  this  is  the  very  whale  that  he 
killed.  We  found  it  dead  and  horribly  mangled  by  sharks. ' ' 

He  has  found  nothing  so  far  to  show  how  it  came  to 
its  death,  but  perhaps  he  may  yet  find  the  harpoon. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  the  Frenchman  informs 
us  that  he  is  going  lobster  fishing  and  asks  if  we  would 
like  to  accompany  him. 

"Where  are  we  to  go?" 

He  points  to  a  series  of  huge  boulders  in  the  water 
near  the  opposite  shore,  about  two  miles  off. 

"Very  well.  How  do  we  get  there?  Do  we  walk 
round  on  the  beach?" 

"Oh,  no,— ride." 

"Do  we  row  out?" 

"Oh,  no,  we  ride  in  a  cart." 

"Which  road?" 

"Right  across  through  the  water." 

See  us  then,  we  two  travellers,  our  host,  and  a  driver, 
embarked  on  the  bay  in  a  common  cart,  drawn  by  a  strong, 
square-built  black  horse.  On  he  walks,  splash — splash — 
and  we  after  him.  He  understands  French  well,  and 
obeys  all  such  commands  as  Allez  done,  and  Marchez, 
but  pays  no  regard  to  English. 


126  Anticosti 

At  length  we  reach  the  fishing  ground.  Two  great 
seals  are  mounted  on  the  rocks,  like  sentinels  guarding 
the  entrance  to  the  port.  The  Frenchman  takes  his  stick, 
to  which  is  attached  a  codfish  hook,  and  proceeds  to  ferret 
out  the  lobsters  in  their  retreats  under  the  rocks.  He 
finds  one  or  two  under  every  rock.  They  cling  to  the 
stones,  or  whatever  else  offers,  so  tenaciously  that  often 
their  claws  break  off.  The  horse  wades  from  rock  to  rock 
with  patience,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  we  fill  our  basket 
with  two  dozen. 

Returning,  we  share  our  catch  with  the  patroon's  family, 
and  in  return  they  supply  us  with  mustard,  oil,  and  vine- 
gar for  lobster  salad,  in  which  our  ship  stores  are  deficient. 

We  spend  the  evening  pleasantly  with  Mr.  Corbet  and 
his  wife.  He  informs  us  further  as  to  the  tenure  of  his 
"Seigneury."  In  Canada,  successive  provincial  legisla- 
tion, with  the  sanction  of  the  Crown,  has  modified  these 
"Seigneuries,"  so  that,  in  that  region,  they  have  now  little 
more  than  a  nominal  existence. 

But  the  "Seigneuries"  of  Labrador  and  Anticosti  still 
remain.  Those  regions,  not  only  being  in  a  state  of 
nature,  but  there  being  no  desire  anywhere  to  colonize 
them,  because  they  are  so  inhospitable  and  barren,  the 
"Seigneury"  is  at  present  valuable  only  for  the  chase  and 
the  fisheries;  and  it  might  be  made  so  for  mines,  forests, 
and  minerals. 

The  "Seigneurs"  (successors  to  the  old  grantees)  are 
understood  to  live  at  Quebec.  They  rent  or  assign  all 
their  privileges  to  assignees  for  terms  of  years,  at  fixed 
rates.  The  Hudson's  Bay  Company  is  the  assignee  of 
Labrador.  Mr.  Corbet  is  the  assignee  of  Anticosti.  He 
pays  five  hundred  dollars  a  year  for  the  whole  enjoyment 
of  that  domain  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long  by 
twenty  broad,  and  he  reimburses  himself  out  of  the  fisher- 
ies, chiefly  salmon  and  seal,  and  the  chase,  principally  of 


Anticosti  127 

bears,  sables,  martens,  foxes,  etc.  There  is  no  government 
there;  but  for  political  purposes  the  territory  is  subject 
to  the  laws  of  Canada. 

Mrs.  Corbet  inquires  if  we  do  not  find  the  odour  of 
the  whale  almost  unbearable,  as  she  does. 

But  Mr.  Corbet  holds  up  his  hands  and  smiles.  He 
says:  "We  are  making  money,  my  dear,  making  money." 

And  so  he  undoubtedly  is,  this  time. 

Another  day,  and  at  last  the  wind  has  "hauled  round" 
to  the  south-east.  We  bid  adieu  to  Anticosti  and  its 
kindly  inhabitants,  and  in  the  evening  set  sail  once  more  for 
Quebec.  It  is  a  soft,  balmy,  starlit  night,  with  a  gentle 
breeze  wafting  us  on  even  keel  over  a  calm  sea.  Our 
easterly  wind  next  brings  us  its  usual  accessories  of  mist 
and  fog.  Three  days  elapse,  in  which  the  fog  seems  to 
grow  denser.  We  seem  to  be  moving  in  a  magic  circle 
of  sea,  perhaps  two  hundred  feet  in  diameter.  Above 
and  below  and  all  around  is  the  fog,  apparently  moving 
with  us.  Nothing  else  is  visible. 

Our  whereabouts  becomes  a  matter  of  guesswork. 
There  are  no  landmarks.  There  is  no  opportunity  for  an 
"observation,"  even  if  we  had  the  instruments  to  make 
one.  We  know  by  the  compass  that  we  are  heading  for 
Quebec,  and  we  know  we  are  still  on  the  open  sea,  for  we 
are  out  of  soundings. 

Our  captain  and  pilot  do  not  seem  worried  over  the 
situation.  They  are  not  apprehending  collisions,  for 
they  say  the  steamers  cannot  run  in  this  fog,  and  that 
the  sailing  craft,  if  moving  at  all,  are  going  in  the  same 
direction  as  ourselves. 

But  this  easy  confidence  receives  a  shock.  At  half- 
past  two  in  the  morning,  while  we  are  still  in  the  impene- 
trable fog  and  going  as  rapidly  as  before,  there  is  a  crash, 
and  the  helmsman  cries  out  in  wild  consternation  for 
"All  hands  on  deck." 


128  Anticosti 

There  is  hurrying  backward  and  forward,  shouting  and 
unintelligible  orders  about  sails,  some  French  profanity 
and  an  unmistakable  volley  of  British  oaths  coming  down 
from  somewhere  above  us,  in  the  darkness ;  which  presently 
drifts  away  and  grows  fainter  in  the  distance. 

Our  ship's  lanterns  are  brought  into  active  requisition 
to  find  out  what  has  happened.  The  schooner  proves  to 
be  all  safe  and  sound,  except  that  a  piece  about  two 
feet  long  has  been  broken  off  the  end  of  our  bowsprit. 
It  looks  very  much  as  if  we  have  run  into  some  ship  lying 
at  anchor,  with  happily  no  worse  results. 

Warned  by  this  experience,  we  proceed  now  under 
shortened  sail,  and  at  a  slower  rate.  Is  it  the  same  day, 
or  the  next  one,  when,  toward  noon,  we  are  suddenly 
startled  by  the  loud  report  of  a  cannon,  seemingly  close 
at  hand!  The  pilot's  face  is  at  once  beaming  with  smiles. 
He  says: 

"ItisBic!" 

So  he  knows  where  we  are.  We  ask  where  and  what 
is  Bic.  We  learn  that  it  is  an  island  where  the  govern- 
ment has  a  lighthouse  and  a  fogbell,  and,  at  intervals  of 
a  few  minutes,  fire  a  cannon,  as  a  warning  to  mariners. 
We  have  not  seen  the  light,  nor  heard  the  fogbell,  but 
we  could  not  help  hearing  the  cannon.  So  we  drop  anchor 
at  once. 

When  the  fog  lifts,  as  after  a  while  it  does,  with  the 
swiftness  of  raising  a  curtain,  we  find  we  are  in  a  spacious 
harbour,  surrounded  by  a  whole  fleet  of  vessels,  steamers 
and  sailing  craft,  which,  like  ourselves,  have  sought  shelter 
under  the  protecting  care  of  Bic.  We  are  out  of  the  Gulf 
and  well  up  the  river,  and  have  come  in  the  fog  nearly 
two  hundred  miles  from  Anticosti. 

Napoleon  IH  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne.  My  father's 
visit  to  Europe  in  1859  has  been  described  in  the  published 


Napoleon  III  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne    129 

extracts  from  his  letters.  But  the  story  of  one  of  the  most 
interesting  days  of  that  journey  is  not  told  there.  A  sub- 
sequent conversation  of  his  with  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys 
gives  the  narration  here. 

"Then  you  were  in  France  before  you  were  Secretary 
of  State,  were  you  not,  Mr.  Seward?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "being  in  the  Senate  and  a  member 
of  the  Committee  on  Foreign  Relations,  I  came  to  Europe 
in  1859,  to  study  the  strength  and  disposition  of  the 
nations  with  whom  we  had  important  questions,  and  in 
a  possible  contingency,  might  have  critical  ones." 

"Whom  did  you  see  in  Paris?" 

"I  met  and  saw  much  of  Count  Walewski  and  other 
members  of  the  Imperial  Government." 

"Walewski  had  charge  of  foreign  affairs  at  that  time, 
did  he  not?" 

"Yes,  I  first  saw  him  on  his  day  for  giving  audiences 
to  the  ambassadors  of  foreign  Powers.  We  were  shown 
into  a  fine  hall  embellished  with  pictures  and  statuary 
peculiar  to  the  Empire.  Over  the  mantel  was  a  very 
large  picture  commemorating  the  Treaty  of  Paris,  which 
closed  the  Russian  War.  I  recognized  at  once  in  this 
the  British  Minister,  Lord  Clarendon.  The  most  im- 
portant figure  was,  however,  that  of  the  French  Secretary 
of  State. 

"I  saw  at  once  that  it  was  the  likeness  of  the  first 
Napoleon  softened  and  made  agreeable.  When  I  asked 
who  that  was,  I  was  surprised  by  the  answer  that  it  was 
Count  Walewski.  I  remarked  the  strange  resemblance 
to  the  Napoleon  head.  The  answer  was  that  Walewski 
was  the  son  of  a  Polish  lady,  with  no  acknowledged  father, 
and  that  he  was  usually  believed  to  be  the  natural  son 
of  Napoleon  I.  He  was  a  very  intelligent  and  engaging 
man.  He  conversed  freely,  and  I  learned  the  imperial 
dynasty  at  that  time  had  no  special  fear  of  England's 


130    Napoleon  III  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne 

policy.  It  was  feeling  very  strong.  I  was  introduced 
there  to  Lord  Cowley  and  all  the  foreign  ministers,  and 
found  the  state  of  Europe  was  the  subject  of  much  anxiety. 
Lord  Cowley  spoke  of  his  sister,  Lady  Bulwer,  whom  we 
had  known  in  Washington  when  Sir  Henry  Bulwer  was 
the  British  Minister  there." 

"When  was  it  that  you  saw  the  Emperor?" 

"Some  time  afterward  he  invited  me  to  visit  him  at 
Compiegne,  and  I  spent  a  day  there." 

"Pray  tell  us  of  that  visit." 

"I  arrived  at  the  palace  about  ten  o'clock,  and  was 
ushered  into  the  antechamber,  filled  with  clerks,  writing 
and  recording  orders  for  the  special  departments  of  Paris. 
Presently  an  officer  came  to  say  that  the  Emperor  would 
receive  me  in  his  private  room. 

"It  was  a  chilly  morning,  and  he  was  warming  himself 
before  an  open  fire.  He  sat  down  immediately,  after 
shaking  hands  with  me,  and  expressed  himself  glad  to 
see  me  in  France.  He  asked  some  questions  in  regard  to 
my  travelling  experiences,  which  led  me  to  give  a  humor- 
ous turn  to  some  incident  which  had  befallen  me.  After 
a  laugh  together  over  this,  he  suddenly  asked  me  what 
the  people  of  the  United  States  thought  of  his  ad- 
ministration. I  replied:  'Your  Majesty  may  well  imag- 
ine that  the  people  of  the  United  States  think  better  of 
your  administration  than  they  expected  to  when  it 
began ! ' 

"Then  we  talked  on.  He  was  not  merely  courteous 
but  genial.  We  talked  on  political  subjects  everywhere 
but  in  France.  We  talked  fast  and  freely.  It  seemed 
difficult  to  find  a  subject  on  which  we  could  differ,  or 
which  he  did  not  discuss  wisely.  He  asked  my  opinion 
of  the  European  statesmen  whom  I  had  met,  and  inquired 
who  had  impressed  me  most. 

"I  told  him  Count  Cavour  in  Italy,  the  Emperor  Fran- 


Napoleon  III  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne    131 

cis  Joseph  in  Austria,  and  Gladstone  in  England.  Recall- 
ing the  incident  of  our  having  met  once  before,  in  1837, 
at  the  house  of  Chancellor  Kent  in  New  York,  the  Emperor 
expressed  a  high  admiration  for  the  United  States,  and 
said  that  owing  to  the  extreme  illness  of  his  mother  he 
was  obliged  to  return  to  Europe  without  having  seen 
Washington,  which  he  much  regretted. 

"A  door  opened,  and  a  lady,  graceful  and  pensively 
beautiful,  entered.  The  Emperor  arose  and  said:  'The 
Empress. '  She  glided  lightly  toward  the  table,  gave  me 
her  hand,  and  sat  down.  She  asked  me  a  courteous 
question  about  my  arrival;  and  the  Emperor  told  her 
that  I  had  a  good  story  about  one  of  my  adventures,  and 
insisted  that  I  should  tell  it  to  her.  Whereupon  we 
laughed  ourselves  into  a  perfect  agreement.  The  Empress 
asked  me:  'Which  party  do  you  belong  to?  Mr.  Mason, 
the  American  Minister  here,  is  on  the  Southern  side.  Do 
you  agree  with  him? ' 

"I  answered:  'That  is  the  government  side  at  home, 
but  I  must  avow,  in  frankness  to  your  Majesty,  that  my 
political  position  is  so  boldly  defined  there  that  I  am 
called  an  Abolitionist. ' 

"  '  I  like  you  for  that.     I  dislike  slavery  so  much. ' 

"After  speaking  these  impulsive  words  her  counte- 
nance showed  embarrassment,  and  on  turning  to  the  Em- 
peror I  saw  that  she  had  received  from  him,  by  a  look, 
an  admonition  against  imprudence. 

"  'Never  mind,  Madame,'  said  I,  'there  is  no  harm 
done.  While  I  thank  you  for  your  ingenuousness,  what 
you  have  said  shall  not  be  repeated. 

"  'And  perhaps  I  must  ask  a  great  favour  from  your 
Majesties.  John  Brown  has  just  been  captured  and 
imprisoned  at  Harpers  Ferry,  charged  with  high  treason 
against  Virginia.  Although  I  had  no  knowledge  what- 
ever of  the  transaction,  the  Democratic  party  charge  me 


132    Napoleon  III  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne 

with  complicity  in  the  crime,  and  the  New  York  Herald 
announces  that  the  Emperor  will  be  required  to  surrender 
me  as  a  fugitive  from  justice,  and  so  I  may  be  obliged  to 
ask  your  Majesties  not  to  give  me  up. ' 

"Both  the  Emperor  and  Empress  laughingly  assured 
me  of  their  protection. 

After  breakfast  a  large  company  gathered  in  a  salon. 
Of  course  the  imperial  infant,  son  and  heir,  was  brought 
in,  and  received  compliments  and  caresses  all  around. 

"  'Mr.  Seward,  you  must  see  my  little  boy,'  said  the 
Empress.  She  put  his  little  hand  in  mine,  and  he  repeated 
after  her:  'How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Seward?' 

"Shortly  after,  the  Emperor  brought  the  child  to  me 
and  said:  'I  desire  to  show  you  my  son. ' 

"The  same  salutation  having  passed  again,  I  took  the 
beautiful  boy  in  my  arms  and  said:  'It  will  do  the  Prince 
no  harm  to  receive  a  kiss  from  an  old  man,  although  he 
is  a  republican. '  The  Emperor  smiled  and  cordially  ap- 
proved. 

"The  Emperor  went  to  the  chase  with  a  party  of  gentle- 
men, and  I  joined  the  Empress's  party  in  a  drive  through 
the  magnificent  forests. 

"When,  later,  the  guests  had  retired  before  dinner, 
and  I  was  waiting  for  my  train,  the  Emperor  remained 
conversing  with  me  in  the  salon,  giving  me  the  plan  and 
full  particulars  of  the  changes  he  was  making  in  Paris, 
and  pointing  out  various  localities  on  a  map  of  Louis 
XVI.'s  time.  In  the  midst  of  this  conversation,  he 
stopped  to  inquire  of  me  about  Niagara,  and  asked  if  it 
could  be  true  that  Blondin  proposed  to  walk  on  a  wire 
across  the  river.  I  told  him  that  I  had  just  learned  from 
an  American  newspaper  that  the  feat  had  been  accom- 
plished. 

"I  brought  away  from  Compilgne  very  pleasant  memo- 
ries of  the  kindly  expressions  and  greetings  received  there. 


Napoleon  III  and  Eugenie  at  Compiegne    133 

And  I  learned  then  that  the  chief,  the  ruling,  thought  of 
the  Imperial  Government  was,  how  to  frame  a  policy  which 
should  render  the  Napoleonic  dynasty  safe  and  perpetuate 
it." 


PART  II 

During  the  War 

1861. 

The  Baltimore  Plot.  In  February,  1861,  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  on  his  way  to  Washington.  Leaving  Illinois  on  the 
nth,  he  and  his  friends  were  making  a  journey  necessarily 
protracted  by  the  receptions  and  ovations  which  the 
people  were  eager  to  tender  to  the  newly  elected  President. 
Newspapers  chronicled  the  incidents  of  his  trip,  the  public 
greetings  at  Indianapolis,  Columbus,  and  Pittsburgh, 
and  the  preparations  for  his  welcome  at  New  York, 
Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore. 

About  noon  on  Thursday,  the  2ist,  I  was  in  the  gallery 
of  the  Senate  Chamber  when  one  of  the  pages  touched  my 
arm,  and  told  me  that  Senator  Seward  wished  to  see  me 
immediately.  Going  down  I  met  him  in  the  lobby. 
He  said  that  he  had  received  a  note  from  General  Scott 
and  Colonel  Stone,  communicating  information  that 
seemed  of  grave  import  and  requiring  immediate  atten- 
tion. He  handed  me  a  letter  which  he  had  just  written 
to  Mr.  Lincoln,  enclosing  the  note  from  General  Scott. 
He  said: 

"Whether  this  story  is  well  founded  or  not,  Mr.  Lincoln 
ought  to  know  of  it  at  once.  But  I  know  of  no  reason 
to  doubt  it.  General  Scott  is  impressed  with  the  belief 
that  the  danger  is  real.  Colonel  Stone  has  facilities  for 

134 


The  Baltimore  Plot  135 

knowing,  and  is  not  apt  to  exaggerate.  I  want  you  to 
go  by  the  first  train.  Find  Mr.  Lincoln  wherever  he  is. 

"Let  no  one  else  know  your  errand.  I  have  written 
him  that  I  think  he  should  change  his  arrangements,  and 
pass  through  Baltimore  at  a  different  hour.  I  know  it 
may  occasion  some  embarrassment,  and  perhaps  some 
ill-natured  talk.  Nevertheless,  I  would  strongly  advise 
him  to  do  it." 

The  train,  a  tedious  one,  brought  me  into  Philadelphia 
about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  I  had  learned  from  the  news- 
papers, and  the  conversation  of  my  fellow-passengers, 
that  the  party  of  the  President-elect  would  spend  the  night 
at  the  Continental  Hotel,  where  he  would  be  serenaded. 

Arriving  at  the  hotel,  I  found  Chestnut  Street  crowded 
with  people,  gay  with  lights,  and  echoing  with  music  and 
cheering.  Within,  the  halls  and  stairways  were  packed, 
and  the  brilliantly  lighted  parlours  were  filled  with  ladies 
and  gentlemen  who  had  come  to  "pay  their  respects." 
A  burst  of  animated  conversation  pervaded  the  throng, 
and  in  its  centre  presentations  to  the  President-elect 
appeared  to  be  going  on.  Clearly,  this  was  no  time  for 
the  delivery  of  a  confidential  message.  I  turned  into  a 
room  near  the  head  of  the  stairway,  which  had  been 
pointed  out  as  that  of  Mr.  Robert  Lincoln.  He  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  group  of  young  friends.  On  my  introducing 
myself,  he  met  and  greeted  me  with  courteous  warmth, 
and  then  called  to  Colonel  Ward  H.  Lamon,  who  was 
passing,  and  introduced  us  to  each  other.  Colonel  Lamon, 
taking  me  by  the  arm,  proposed  at  once  to  go  back  into 
the  parlour  to  present  me  to  Mr.  Lincoln.  On  my  telling 
him  that  I  wanted  my  interview  to  be  as  private  and  to 
attract  as  little  attention  as  possible,  the  Colonel  laughed 
and  said: 

"Then  I  think  I  had  better  take  you  to  his  bedroom. 
If  you  don't  mind  waiting  there,  you'll  be  sure  to  meet 


136  The  Baltimore  Plot 

him,  for  he  has  got  to  go  there  sometime  tonight,  and  it 
is  the  only  place  I  know  of  where  he  will  be  likely  to  be 
alone." 

This  was  the  very  opportunity  I  desired.  Thanking 
the  Colonel,  I  sat  and  waited  for  an  hour  or  more  in  the 
quiet  room  that  was  in  such  contrast  to  the  bustle  outside. 
Presently  Colonel  Lamon  called  me,  and  we  met  Mr. 
Lincoln,  who  was  coming  down  the  hall.  I  had  never 
before  seen  him;  but  the  campaign  portraits  had  made  his 
face  quite  familiar.  I  could  not  but  notice  how  accu- 
rately they  had  copied  his  features,  and  how  totally  they 
had  omitted  his  careworn  look,  and  his  pleasant,  kindly 
smile. 

After  a  few  words  of  friendly  greeting,  with  inquiries 
about  my  father  and  matters  in  Washington,  he  sat  down 
by  the  table  under  the  gas  light  to  peruse  the  letter  I  had 
brought.  Although  its  contents  were  of  a  somewhat 
startling  nature  he  made  no  exclamation,  and  I  saw  no 
sign  of  surprise  in  his  face.  After  reading  it  carefully 
through,  he  again  held  it  to  the  light,  and  deliberately 
read  it  through  a  second  time.  Then,  after  musing  a 
moment,  he  looked  up  and  asked: 

"  Did  you  hear  anything  about  the  way  this  information 
was  obtained?  Do  you  know  anything  about  how  they 
got  it?" 

No,  I  had  known  nothing  in  regard  to  it,  till  that  morn- 
ing when  called  down  by  my  father  from  the  Senate 
gallery. 

"Your  father  and  General  Scott  do  not  say  who  they 
think  are  concerned  in  it.  Do  you  think  they  know?" 

On  that  point,  too,  I  could  give  no  additional  informa- 
tion further  than  my  impression  that  my  father's  know- 
ledge was  limited  to  what  had  been  communicated  to  him 
by  Colonel  Stone,  in  whose  statements  he  had  implicit 
confidence. 


The  Baltimore  Plot  137 

"Did  you  hear  any  names  mentioned?  Did  you,  for 
instance,  ever  hear  anything  said  about  such  a  name  as 
Pinkerton?" 

No,  I  had  heard  no  such  name  in  connection  with  the 
matter, — no  name  at  all,  in  fact,  except  those  of  General 
Scott  and  Colonel  Stone. 

He  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said: 

"I  may  as  well  tell  you  why  I  ask.  There  were  stories 
or  rumours  some  time  ago,  before  I  left  home,  about  people 
who  were  intending  to  do  me  a  mischief.  I  never  at- 
tached much  importance  to  them — never  wanted  to  believe 
any  such  thing.  So  I  never  would  do  anything  about 
them,  in  the  way  of  taking  precautions  and  the  like. 
Some  of  my  friends,  though,  thought  differently — Judd 
and  others — and  without  my  knowledge  they  employed 
a  detective  to  look  into  the  matter.  It  seems  he  has 
occasionally  reported  what  he  found,  and  only  today, 
since  we  arrived  at  this  house,  he  brought  this  story,  or 
something  similar  to  it,  about  an  attempt  on  my  life  in 
the  confusion  and  hurly-burly  of  the  reception  at  Balti- 
more." 

"Surely,  Mr.  Lincoln,"  said  I,  "that  is  a  strong  cor- 
roboration  of  the  news  I  bring  you." 

He  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"That  is  exactly  why  I  was  asking  you  about  names. 
If  different  persons,  not  knowing  of  each  other's  work, 
have  been  pursuing  separate  clues  that  led  to  the  same 
result,  why  then  it  shows  there  may  be  something  in  it. 
But  if  this  is  only  the  same  story,  filtered  through  two 
channels,  and  reaching  me  in  two  ways,  then  that  don't 
make  it  any  stronger.  Don't  you  see?" 

The  logic  was  unanswerable.  But  I  asserted  my  strong 
belief  that  the  two  investigations  had  been  conducted 
independently'  of  each  other,  and  urged  that  there  was 
enough  of  probability  to  make  it  prudent  to  adopt  the 


138  The  Baltimore  Plot 

suggestion,  and  make  the  slight  change  in  hour  and  train 
which  would  avoid  all  risk. 

After  a  little  further  discussion  of  the  subject,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln rose  and  said : 

"Well,  we  haven't  got  to  decide  it  tonight,  anyway, 
and  I  see  it's  getting  late." 

Then,  noticing  that  I  looked  disappointed  at  his  re- 
luctance to  regard  the  warning,  he  said  kindly : 

"You  need  not  think  I  will  not  consider  it  well.  I  shall 
think  it  over  carefully,  and  try  to  decide  it  right;  and  I 
will  let  you  know  in  the  morning." 

At  the  breakfast  table  the  next  day  I  found  the  morning 
papers  announced  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  risen  early,  in 
order  to  go  over  to  Independence  Hall  to  attend  the  flag 
raising  there  on  Washington's  Birthday.  They  gave 
also  a  report  of  his  remarks  there.  One  sentence  in  these 
had  a  deeper  meaning  than  his  audience  guessed.  Ad- 
verting to  the  principle  embodied  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  he  said:  "If  this  country  cannot  be  saved 
without  giving  up  that  principle,  I  was  about  to  say,  I 
would  rather  be  assassinated  on  this  spot  than  surrender 
it." 

Shortly  after  breakfast,  Colonel  Lamon  met  me  in  the 
hall,  and,  taking  me  aside,  said  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
concluded  to  do  as  he  had  been  advised.  He  would  change 
his  plan  so  as  to  pass  through  Baltimore  at  a  different 
hour  from  that  announced.  I  hastened  to  the  telegraph 
office,  and  sent  to  my  father  a  word  previously  agreed 
upon;  on  receiving  which  he  would  understand  that  his 
advice  had  been  taken. 

Accordingly,  he  was  at  the  railroad  station  in  Washing- 
ton on  Saturday  morning,  with  E.  B.  Washburne  of  Illi- 
nois, when  Mr.  Lincoln  and  Colonel  Lamon,  very  much 
to  the  surprise  of  the  bystanders,  got  out  of  the  night 
train  from  Philadelphia. 


The  Old  State  Department  139 

After  breakfast,  my  father  introduced  him  to  the  Presi- 
dent and  Cabinet,  and  then  went  with  him  to  call  on 
General  Scott.  Rooms  had  been  taken  for  the  President- 
elect at  Willard's  Hotel,  and  most  of  the  afternoon  was 
passed  in  receiving  visits  from  his  friends,  the  members 
of  Congress,  and  of  the  Peace  Conference.  Mingled  with 
the  expressions  of  gratification  at  meeting  him,  was  an 
undertone  of  regret  that  it  should  have  been  deemed 
necessary  or  wise  to  make  the  hasty  night  trip  through 
Baltimore.  This  was  natural  enough.  The  time  had 
not  yet  come  when  Americans  in  general  could  realize 
that  a  crime  at  once  so  nefarious  and  so  foolish  as  the 
assassination  of  the  Chief  Magistrate  was  possible. 

Mr.  Lincoln  himself,  conversing  with  his  friend  Leonard 
Swett,  intimated  that,  while  he  had  been  impressed  by 
the  Pinkerton  warning,  yet  he  had  about  made  up  his 
mind  not  to  be  influenced  by  it,  unsupported  as  it  was 
by  any  other  evidence.  When,  later  in  the  evening,  I 
arrived  with  the  letters  from  my  father,  General  Scott, 
and  Colonel  Stone,  resulting  from  a  different  investiga- 
tion, it  became  manifest  to  him  that  at  least  the  matter 
had  too  much  importance  to  be  disregarded. 

So  he  made  his  quiet  entry  into  the  national  capital 
by  the  night  train — thus  defeating  the  plans  of  the  con- 
spirators to  attack  him  in  the  tumult  expected  to  follow 
the  arrival  of  his  train  in  Baltimore  at  noon. 

The  Old  State  Department.  "Your  nomination  was 
confirmed  in  the  Senate  today.  So  you  are  now  the 
Assistant  Secretary  of  State,"  said  Senator  Sumner, 
looking  in,  with  a  smile  on  his  usually  grave  face.  "No 
objection  was  made,  and  you  will  be  able  to  enter  upon 
your  duties  tomorrow." 

Accordingly  I  walked  over  to  the  historic  old  building 
in  the  morning,  took  the  oath  of  office,  and  began  my  work. 


140  The  Old  State  Department 

In  Major  L'Enf ant's  original  plan  of  Washington  there 
were  four  buildings,  all  just  alike,  at  the  four  corners  of 
the  square  devoted  to  the  grounds  and  groves  surround- 
ing the  Executive  Mansion.  They  were  for  the  four 
departments,  of  State,  Treasury,  War,  and  Navy.  They 
were  substantial  modest  brick  edifices,  without  architec- 
tural ornament,  except  a  lofty  portico,  with  white  columns, 
on  the  north  side  of  each,  covering  its  principal  entrance. 

The  revenues  and  expenditures  of  the  new  Republic 
soon  began  to  exceed  all  expectations;  and  the  Treasury 
Department  was  torn  down  to  give  place  to  a  much  more 
spacious  and  pretentious  structure,  having  a  long  colon- 
nade on  1 5th  Street.  The  War  and  Navy  establishments 
also  outgrew  their  quarters,  but  their  buildings  were 
still  standing,  and  were  supplemented  by  additional 
ones  rented  on  the  adjoining  streets,  for  bureaus  and 
clerks.  Only  the  State  Department  retained  its  original 
dimensions;  for  the  whole  number  of  its  officials  in  Wash- 
ington hardly  amounted  to  a  hundred  men.  It  had  a 
certain  stately  dignity,  enhanced  by  the  remembrance  of 
what  had  transpired  within  its  grey  walls  in  the  course  of 
seventy  years. 

Here  the  foreign  relations  of  the  United  States  were 
conducted  for  the  greater  part  of  the  first  century  of  the 
nation.  Here  were  kept  the  archives  and  the  correspond- 
ence with  all  foreign  governments,  and  here  were  prepared 
the  instructions,  replies,  and  treaties,  which  were  to  de- 
termine the  nation's  foreign  policy. 

From  here  Oliver  Ellsworth  and  his  colleagues  were 
sent  out  to  make  the  treaty  with  Talleyrand  which  averted 
a  threatened  war  with  France.  From  here  Jefferson 
sent  the  first  written  President's  Message  to  Congress. 
Here  Madison  prepared  the  instructions  to  Robert  R. 
Livingston  as  Minister  at  Paris,  to  guide  him  in  nego- 
tiating the  purchase  of  the  great  Louisiana  territory. 


The  Old  State  Department  141 

Here  Decatur  and  Preble  were  instructed  to  break  up 
the  piracy  of  the  Barbary  powers,  to  release  the  captives, 
and  make  an  end  of  the  tribute.  From  here  Monroe  and 
Pinckney  set  out  to  try  to  stop  the  impressment  of  Ameri- 
can seamen  and  the  seizure  of  American  ships  by  the 
British  navy.  From  here  emanated  Jefferson's  procla- 
mation, ordering  all  British  men-of-war  out  of  American 
waters.  Here  Secretary  Monroe  gave  the  British  Minister 
his  passports,  and  President  Madison  proclaimed  the 
war  with  England.  Here,  soon  after,  came  the  Russian 
envoy  to  offer  friendly  mediation  in  the  conflict,  and  from 
here,  soon  after  that,  Henry  Clay  and  his  colleagues  went 
out  to  effect  the  restoration  of  peace  by  the  Treaty  of 
Ghent.  From  here  was  promulgated  the  celebrated 
"Monroe  Doctrine,"  that  this  continent  was  to  be  thence- 
forward free  from  European  dictation.  Here  John  Quincy 
Adams  concluded  the  treaty  with  Spain  for  the  acquisition 
of  Florida.  From  here  went  out  the  recognition  of  the 
independence  of  Mexico  and  the  South  American  repub- 
lics. Here  Lafayette  was  welcomed;  and  from  here 
Harrison  bore  greetings  to  Bolivar.  Here  was  penned 
General  Jackson's  message  denouncing  nullification  by 
South  Carolina.  Here  Webster  concluded  his  treaty  with 
Lord  Ashburton  settling  all  boundary  and  extradition 
disputes  with  Great  Britain.  And  here  he  made  his 
famous  declaration  that  "Every  merchant  vessel  on  the 
high  seas  is  rightfully  considered  part  of  the  territory  to 
which  it  belongs."  From  here  Secretary  Calhoun,  on 
the  night  before  President  Tyler's  retirement  from  office, 
sent  out  a  messenger  offering  annexation  to  Texas.  Here 
Secretary  Buchanan  drafted  the  treaty  of  peace  with 
Mexico,  and  from  here  went  out  Folk's  proclamation  of 
the  new  treaty  of  Guadelupe-Hidalgo  and  the  acquisition 
of  California  and  New  Mexico.  Here  Clayton  heard  the 
knell  of  his  political  hopes,  when  the  bell  over  his  head 


142  The  Old  State  Department 

began  to  toll  for  the  death  of  General  Taylor.  From 
here  went  forth  the  invitation  to  Kossuth,  then  exiled 
in  Turkey,  to  come  to  the  United  States  on  board  an 
American  frigate.  Here  were  framed  the  instructions 
and  treaty  through  which  Commodore  Perry  was  to  open 
Japan  to  American  commerce.  Here  Marcy  penned  his 
celebrated  dispatch  in  the  Koszta  case,  maintaining  the 
rights  of  American  citizenship.  And  here  President 
and  Queen  exchanged  congratulations,  in  the  first  messages 
that  ever  went  over  the  Atlantic  cable. 

Now,  in  the  beginning  of  1861,  the  State  Department 
was  in  a  condition  of  suspended  animation.  The  Secre- 
tary of  State,  General  Cass,  had  resigned,  on  account  of 
a  difference  of  opinion  with  President  Buchanan.  The 
Assistant  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Trescott,  had  gone  home 
to  South  Carolina,  to  take  part  in  her  secession  from  the 
Union.  The  Attorney-General,  Mr.  Black,  was  in  nomi- 
nal charge  of  the  office  but  exercising  few  of  its  functions. 
The  actual  head  of  affairs  departmental  was  Mr.  William 
Hunter,  the  Chief  Clerk. 

Fortunately  he  was  admirably  equipped  for  that  work. 
Appointed  in  his  youth  to  a  clerkship  in  the  Department 
by  John  Quincy  Adams,  he  had  passed  the  greater  part 
of  his  life  within  its  walls,  under  different  secretaries, 
through  successive  administrations,  and  rising  by  succes- 
sive promotions  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  rank.  He 
took  no  part  in  partisan  conflicts.  His  loyalty  to  the 
Union  was  undoubted.  His  allegiance  and  fidelity  were 
to  the  Government.  So  every  secretary  trusted  him  and 
depended  on  him.  He  was  a  walking  encyclopaedia  of 
the  decisions  and  precedents  and  questions  arising  out  of 
our  foreign  relations.  Of  course  he  was  familiarly  ac- 
quainted with  the  personnel  of  the  Department  and  of 
the  diplomatic  corps,  past  and  present.  Conversing 
fluently  in  French  and  Spanish,  he  was  an  excellent  medium 


The  Old  State  Department  143 

for  intercourse  with  the  foreign  representatives, — most  of 
whom  liked  to  have  a  private  unofficial  interview  with 
Mr.  Hunter,  when  they  were  not  sure  whether  their 
carefully  studied  English  would  correspond  with  the 
customary  American  idioms.  His  functions  had  gradu- 
ally come  to  be  very  like  those  of  the  permanent  Under 
Secretary  in  the  British  Foreign  Office,  a  post  held  for 
years  by  Sir  Julian  Pauncefote  and  by  other  eminent 
diplomatists. 

The  stern  dislike  of  our  forefathers  toward  monarchy 
and  titles  of  nobility  found  expression  in  our  Constitution 
and  laws.  The  President  was  to  be  simply  "The  Presi- 
dent," not  "His  Majesty"  nor  "His  Highness"  nor  even 
"His  Excellency."  No  titles  of  nobility  or  decorations 
were  to  be  granted.  We  were  to  have  no  ambassadors, 
or  field  marshals,  or  lord  high  admirals.  We  were  to 
be  represented  abroad  by  ministers  and  charges.  In 
the  departments,  those  high  dignitaries  known  at  Euro- 
pean courts  as  lord  high  chancellors,  lord  high  treas- 
urers, and  other  lordships  and  excellencies  were  shorn  of 
such  distinctions,  and  even  the  keeper  of  the  seal  and 
clerk  of  the  rolls  and  such  important  officers  were  described 
in  the  statute  books  as  "  1st,  2d,  3d,  and  4th  class  clerks." 
So  the  officials  of  the  State  Department,  many  of  whom 
had  occupied  responsible  diplomatic  positions  and  dis- 
charged important  functions,  were  relegated  to  that 
democratic  level. 

Ever  since  General  Jackson's  time  there  had  been  usu- 
ally almost  a  clean  sweep  of  department  officials  after 
each  Presidential  election,  on  the  ground  that  "to  the 
victors  belong  the  spoils."  Active  partisans  received 
the  offices  as  their  rewards.  But  it  was  soon  learned  that 
the  Department  of  State  must  be  made  an  exception  to 
that  rule,  unless  we  were  ready  to  sacrifice  all  the  tact 
and  experience  gained  by  long  service  in  diplomacy,  of 


144  The  Old  State  Department 

which  we  needed  as  much  as  any  European  Power.  So 
many  officers  of  the  Department  represented  successive 
administrations,  and  some  had  a  record  of  ten,  twenty, 
or  thirty  years'  service. 

On  the  morning  after  his  appointment  to  be  Secretary 
of  State,  my  father  sent  for  Mr.  Hunter,  and  requested 
that  a  complete  list  of  all  the  officers,  clerks,  and  employees 
should  be  brought  to  him.  Then  inquiry  was  made  as 
to  which  ones  were  trustworthy  and  loyal  to  the  Union 
and  which  were  disaffected  or  openly  disloyal.  It  was  not 
difficult  to  select  them,  for  Washington  had  so  long  been 
a  Southern  city  and  so  many  of  its  officials  were  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  Secessionists,  that  outspoken  disunion 
sentiments  were  freely  avowed.  In  fact  all  the  depart- 
ments contained  many  whom  it  was  believed  only  remained 
in  order  to  use  their  positions  to  give  aid  or  information 
to  the  opponents  of  the  Government. 

The  new  Secretary  of  State  promptly  dismissed  all 
except  those  whose  fidelity  to  the  Union  was  undoubted. 
Then  he  informed  Mr.  Hunter  he  should  make  no  further 
inquiry  or  discrimination  in  regard  to  past  party  affilia- 
tions, but  should  expect  all  who  remained  to  act  with  him 
in  zealously  maintaining  and  upholding  the  Federal 
Union. 

The  good  results  of  this  policy  were  immediately  ap- 
parent, and  continued  throughout  the  period  of  the  Civil 
War.  Faithful  and  zealous  service  was  rendered  by  all. 
No  duty  was  neglected,  no  state  secrets  betrayed,  and 
no  removal  ever  found  necessary.  In  fact  most  of  the 
State  Department  clerks  remained  at  their  desks  during 
the  time  of  Presidents  Lincoln,  Johnson,  Grant,  and  Hayes, 
several  being  promoted  to  higher  diplomatic  or  depart- 
mental work. 

A  year  or  two  after  the  close  of  the  Civil  War,  it  was 
decreed  that  the  old  department  building  should  be  pulled 


The  Month  of  Suspense  145 

down  to  give  place  to  more  spacious  and  imposing  edifices. 
While  the  demolition  was  going  on,  and  we  were  occupy- 
ing temporary  quarters  on  I4th  Street,  Mr.  Cox  of  the 
Disbursing  Office  called  to  present  a  mahogany  cane  to 
the  Secretary  of  State. 

"This  cane,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  he,  "has  been  in  the 
hands  of  every  President  of  the  United  States  since  Wash- 
ington, of  every  Vice-President,  of  every  Minister  sent 
abroad  and  every  foreign  representative  sent  here  by  any 
foreign  Power,  of  every  cabinet  officer  in  every  adminis- 
tration, as  well  as  in  the  hands  of  every  Senator  and 
member  of  Congress  who  has  been  at  all  prominent  in 
government  affairs." 

"Your  tale  rather  taxes  one's  credulity,  Mr.  Cox. 
What  is  this  remarkable  cane  that  you  offer  me?" 

"It  is  one,  Mr.  Secretary,  that  has  been  carved  out  of 
the  handrail  of  the  stairway  in  the  old  Department  of 
State,  which  all  visitors  have  used  on  their  way  to  the 
Secretary's  room." 

The  cane  is  now  preserved  at  Auburn. 

The  Month  of  Suspense.  When  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been 
peaceably  inaugurated,  it  seemed  to  many  both  at  the 
North  and  the  South  that  the  worst  was  now  over.  There 
had  been  no  riot  or  tumult.  All  was  decorous  and  orderly. 
True,  there  were  several  States  that  declared  themselves 
"seceded";  but  State  after  State  during  the  winter  had 
"gone  out,"  and  nothing  had  happened.  They  had  made 
no  hostile  demonstration,  and  none  had  been  made  to- 
wards them.  There  was  a  popular  feeling  that  the  "se- 
ceded" States  would  simply  hold  aloof  from  participating 
in  public  affairs,  maintain  an  attitude  of  sullen  defiance, 
coupled  with  preparations  for  military  defence,  and  so 
would  await  or  make  overtures  of  readjustment. 

The  people  of  the  North  were  incredulous  of  Southern 


146  The  Month  of  Suspense 

threats.  That  any  one  should  actually  make  war  upon 
the  general  government  was  to  them  hardly  imaginable. 
Besides  there  was  no  immediate  reason  or  provocation. 
The  Republican  party  had  declared  that  it  had  no  inten- 
tion of  interfering  with  slavery  in  the  States,  and  there 
was  now  no  Territorial  issue.  The  Republican  President 
had  been  elected  and  inaugurated,  but  he  was  powerless 
to  act  while  Congress  was  opposed  to  him.  Furthermore 
it  was  known  that  there  were  many  differences  of  opinion 
among  the  Northern  people.  Numerous  public  men  and 
bodies  had  declared  that  it  was  "unconstitutional"  for 
the  Federal  Government  to  "coerce  a  sovereign  State." 
Many  of  the  Northern  Democrats  were  believed  to  be  in 
sympathy  with  the  South  and  with  slavery;  while  it  was 
well  known  that  there  were  many  stanch  Union  men  in  the 
Southern  States. 

There  were  three  points  on  which  public  interest  was 
centred,  Fort  Sumter,  Fort  Pickens,  and  the  State  of 
Viriginia. 

Fort  Sumter,  in  Charleston  harbour,  was  claimed  by 
South  Carolinians  as  legitimately  belonging  to  the  State, 
although  held  by  a  small  Federal  garrison.  They  an- 
nounced that  they  would  allow  it  to  be  neither  reinforced 
nor  supplied,  and  they  were  diligently  erecting  batteries 
and  throwing  up  earthworks  around  it,  to  prevent  any 
succour  from  reaching  it.  They  confidently  hoped  that 
the  little  garrison  would  soon  be  starved  out  or  surrender. 

Fort  Pickens,  on  the  coast  of  Florida,  had  also  a  small 
garrison,  which  the  Secessionists  hoped  to  capture  by  the 
simple  expedient  of  taking  the  men,  one  by  one,  on  a  writ 
of  habeas  corpus  before  a  neighbouring  judge,  by  whom, 
on  one  pretext  or  another,  they  were  promptly  discharged 
from  the  United  States  military  service.  So  the  garrison 
was  slowly  but  effectively  reduced. 

Meanwhile  the  State  of  Virignia  was  holding  a  conven- 


The  Month  of  Suspense  147 

tion  at  which  the  disunionists  were  hoping  to  pass  an 
ordinance  of  secession.  The  Union  men,  however,  claimed 
a  majority.  If  Virginia  refused  to  pass  the  ordinance 
and  remained  in  the  Union,  the  revolution  would  be  shorn 
of  its  proportions,  whereas  if  she  sided  with  the  rebellion, 
Maryland  would  follow,  and  all  the  slave  States  would  be 
united.  This,  it  was  held,  would  convince  the  North  of 
the  utter  hopelessness  of  subjugating  so  vast  a  territory, 
covering  nearly  half  of  the  Union. 

All  the  energies  of  the  disunionists  were  put  forth 
therefore  to  acquire  Virginia.  It  was  confidently  believed, 
however,  at  the  North,  that  the  disunion  leaders  were 
in  a  minority,  though  a  very  active  and  persevering  one. 
The  disunionists  themselves  insisted  that  their  policy 
meant  peace,  not  war,  for  all  the  free  States,  even  if 
united,  could  not  hope  to  conquer  all  the  slaveholding 
ones.  While  the  debates  in  the  Virginian  convention 
thus  dragged  along,  the  leaders  cast  about  for  means  to 
"fire  the  Southern  heart,"  and  so  secure  a  "united 
South." 

On  his  way  home  from  St.  John's  Church,  the  first 
Sunday  after  his  arrival  in  Washington,  Mr.  Lincoln  had 
said  to  my  father:  "Governor  Seward,  there  is  one  part 
of  my  work  that  I  shall  have  to  leave  largely  to  you.  I 
shall  have  to  depend  upon  you  for  taking  care  of  these 
matters  of  foreign  affairs,  of  which  I  know  so  little,  and 
with  which  I  reckon  you  are  familiar." 

President  Lincoln  now  had  set  about  his  laborious 
duties  in  good  faith,  and  the  first  shape  in  which  they 
presented  themselves  to  him  was  in  the  swarm  of  office- 
seekers  that  beleaguered  the  White  House,  filling  all  the 
halls,  corridors,  and  offices  from  morning  till  night.  The 
patient  good  humour  and  the  democratic  habits  of  the 
new  President  led  him  to  give  audience  to  everybody,  at 
all  hours.  Even  the  members  of  his  Cabinet,  sometimes, 


148  The  Month  of  Suspense 

had  to  force  their  way  through  the  crowd,  and  get  the 
private  ear  of  the  President  in  the  corner  of  a  roomful  of 
visitors,  before  they  could  impart  to  him  grave  matters 
of  state. 

My  father  was  a  daily  and  frequent  visitor  at  the  White 
House  during  this  month  of  crowds  and  confusion.  I 
found  myself  often  a  bearer  of  messages  from  one  to  the 
other,  about  matters  too  important  for  longer  delay.  At 
first,  when  I  would  take  up  to  the  President  a  paper  for 
his  signature,  he  would  spread  it  out  and  carefully  read 
the  whole  of  it.  But  this  usage  was  speedily  abandoned, 
and  he  would  hastily  say,  "Your  father  says  this  is  all 
right,  does  he?  Well,  I  guess  he  knows.  Where  do  I 
put  my  name?" 

While  President  and  people  were  resting  in  the  confident 
belief  that,  if  the  offices  could  only  be  satisfactorily  disposed 
of,  and  the  Southern  trouble  somehow  staved  off,  all  might 
yet  go  well,  a  new  and  unlooked-for  danger  was  not  only 
threatened,  but  actually  close  at  hand  from  Europe. 

My  father  had  now  been  in  the  State  Department  long 
enough  to  discover  that  the  three  great  Powers  of  western 
Europe  were  actively  engaged  in  helping  the  plots  to 
break  up  the  United  States.  This  was  their  opportunity. 
Public  attention  in  the  United  States  had  been  so  absorbed 
in  affairs  at  home  that  none  had  been  given  to  affairs 
abroad.  But  these  three  great  Powers  had  been  closely 
watching  our  troubles,  and  preparing  to  take  advantage 
of  them.  If  the  great  American  Republic  was  going  to 
pieces,  it  meant  to  them  that  the  republican  form  of 
government,  everywhere,  was  doomed  to  like  destruction. 

Spain,  England,  and  France  were  monarchical  govern- 
ments, having  little  faith  in  republics.  Now,  the  progress 
of  events  in  the  United  States  seemed  to  show  that  the 
old  order  of  things  was  coming  back,  and  they  could 
resume  the  building  of  their  empires  on  monarchical  lines. 


The  Month  of  Suspense  149 

The  "Monroe  Doctrine"  could  safely  be  ignored,  and 
the  interference  of  America  need  not  be  feared. 

Spain  had  already  openly  seized  the  government  of 
San  Domingo,  toppled  down  the  Dominican  republic,  and 
again  planted  the  banner  of  Castile  on  the  island  where 
it  first  waved  four  hundred  years  before. 

England,  through  Lord  Lyons,  had  formally  notified 
the  American  Secretary  of  State  that  any  "paper  block- 
ade" of  Southern  ports  would  be  disregarded  by  her 
Majesty's  government,  and  that  none  would  be  regarded 
unless  "rendered  effective  by  ample  naval  force."  He 
significantly  added  that  the  American  navy  was  by  no 
means  such  a  force. 

France  was  evasive  as  to  her  designs  in  Mexico,  and 
certainly  would  not  regard  any  "paper  blockade"  of  the 
"seceded  States,"  but  instead  she  might  recognize  those 
States  themselves. 

The  whole  fabric  of  American  republics  threatened  to 
fall  like  a  house  of  cards.  To  European  statesmen,  this 
result  seemed  to  be  exactly  what  they  had  so  long  pre- 
dicted. 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  the  1st  of  April,  my  father  wrote 
out  a  series  of  suggestions  for  Mr.  Lincoln,  to  aid  him  in 
thinking  over  topics  which  would  come  up  at  succeeding 
interviews.  This  paper  was  headed,  "Some  thoughts  for 
the  President's  consideration."  It  was  not  to  be  filed, 
or  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  any  clerk.  As  my  father's 
handwriting  was  almost  illegible,  I  copied  it  myself,  and 
dispatched  it  by  private  hand. 

In  this  paper  were  briefly  outlined  suggestions  in  regard 
to  the  crowd  of  office-seekers,  the  relief  of  the  two  forts, 
the  navy  and  the  blockade,  the  suspension  of  the  habeas 
corpus  at  Key  West,  the  issues  of  slavery  and  the  Union 
or  disunion,  and  the  foreign  policy  to  be  pursued  with 
reference  to  the  various  European  Powers. 


150  The  Call  to  Arms 

Mr.  Lincoln  acknowledged  its  reception  in  a  kind  and 
dignified  note,  in  which  he  said  that  if  these  things  were 
to  be  done,  then  he  must  do  them.  So  the  "Thoughts" 
became,  as  intended,  the  basis  of  subsequent  interviews 
between  the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  State.  They 
also  proved  useful  hints  for  Cabinet  discussions.  My 
father  found  the  President  ready  and  willing  to  sanction 
and  co-operate  in  most  of  the  points  and  suggestions. 
Accordingly,  on  the  very  next  day,  Spain  was  called  upon, 
through  her  Minister,  Mr.  Tassara,  for  "explanations" 
in  regard  to  her  acts  in  San  Domingo.  The  secret  expedi- 
tion for  the  relief  of  Fort  Pickens  was  approved,  fitted 
out,  and  dispatched  without  attracting  public  attention 
until  it  reached  its  destination  and  accomplished  its  pur- 
pose. It  carried  the  executive  order  for  the  suspension 
of  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus  at  Key  West.  On  succeed- 
ing days,  the  "explanations"  from  France,  Great  Britain, 
Russia,  and  Spain  were  called  for  with  more  or  less  satis- 
factory results. 

And  now  the  month  of  suspense  drew  to  its  inevitable 
ending.  The  events  dreaded  at  the  North,  and  hoped  for 
at  the  South,  actually  took  place.  As  Fort  Sumter  was 
to  be  either  evacuated  or  reinforced,  the  Administration 
decided  to  supply  and  reinforce  it.  South  Carolina 
decided  to  bombard  and  capture  it. 

Virginia  thereupon  promptly  passed  the  Ordinance  of 
Secession.  And  so,  amid  general  Southern  exultation,  the 
dream  of  the  Secessionists  for  a  "  united  South  "  was  at 
last  realized — to  be  followed  by  an  awakening  to  four  years 
of  bloody  war — and  the  final  restoration  of  the  Union. 

The  Call  to  Arms.  It  was  on  Friday,  the  I2th  of  April, 
that  news  came  that  the  Secessionists  were  about  to 
attack  Fort  Sumter,  and  would  endeavour  to  carry  it  by 
assault  before  the  relief  expedition  could  reach  there. 


The  Call  to  Arms  151 

It  was  while  the  batteries  in  Charleston  were  opening 
fire  on  the  national  flag  that  my  father  was  penning  his 
instructions  to  Burlingame.  In  them  he  remarked: 
"We  are  just  now  entering  on  a  fearful  trial,  not  only 
unknown  but  even  deemed  impossible.  Ambitious  and 
discontented  partisans  have  raised  the  standard  of  in- 
surrection, and  organized  a  revolutionary  government. 
Their  agents  have  gone  abroad  to  seek,  under  the  name 
of  'recognition,'  aid  and  assistance.  A  premature  de- 
claration of  recognition  by  any  foreign  state  would  be 
direct  intervention,  and  the  state  which  should  lend  it 
must  be  prepared  to  assume  the  relations  of  an  ally  of 
the  projected  Confederacy.  Both  the  justice  and  the 
wisdom  of  the  war  must  be  settled,  as  all  questions  which 
concern  the  American  people  must  be  determined,  not 
by  arms  but  by  suffrage.  When,  at  last,  the  ballot  is  to 
be  employed,  after  the  sword,  then  in  addition  to  the 
questions  indicated,  two  further  ones  will  arise,  requiring 
to  be  answered,  namely,  which  party  began  the  conflict, 
and  which  maintained  in  that  conflict  the  cause  of  freedom 
and  humanity." 

Saturday  morning  came  the  news  of  the  bombardment, 
and  the  gallant  defence  of  their  flag  by  the  handful  of 
men  in  the  garrison,  against  the  overwhelming  odds  of 
batteries  erected  all  round  the  harbour  and  manned  by 
besiegers,  who  were  to  the  besieged  more  than  a  hundred 
to  one.  Occasional  telegraphic  dispatches,  sent  out  during 
the  day  and  evening  by  the  assailants,  chronicled  the 
progress  of  the  unequal  struggle. 

Sunday  morning  it  was  known  in  Washington  that  the 
defenders,  having  faithfully  performed  their  duty  so  long 
as  their  guns  and  ammunition  held  out,  would  haul  down 
their  flag  at  noon,  and  evacuate  the  fort. 

President  and  Cabinet  passed  most  of  the  day  in  con- 
sultation over  the  grave,  though  not  unexpected,  event, 


152  The  Call  to  Arms 

and  its  far-reaching  consequences.  As  to  their  own  imme- 
diate duty  there  was  no  difference  of  opinion.  The  time 
had  manifestly  arrived  to  call  for  troops.  It  was  no 
longer  a  question  of  "coercing  States"  but  of  defending 
the  existence  of  the  nation.  Nor  was  there  any  delusive 
hope  that  a  small  force  would  suffice.  Each  of  the  Cabinet 
members  realized  that  the  contest  would  be  gigantic. 

The  point  for  anxious  consultation  was,  not  how  many 
soldiers  would  quell  the  rebellion,  but  how  many  it  would 
be  wise  to  call  for  at  the  very  outset.  The  lowest  figure 
suggested  was  fifty  thousand;  the  highest  one  hundred 
thousand.  My  father  advocated  the  largest  number. 
It  was  finally  deemed  prudent  to  fix  the  limit  at  seventy- 
five  thousand.  By  this  an  effective  force  of  fifty  thousand 
men  might  be  counted  on  at  once  from  the  Northern 
States.  In  the  border  States  there  would  be  lukewarm- 
ness  and  delay,  perhaps  refusal. 

The  next  question  was  as  to  calling  Congress.  The 
executive  branch  of  the  Government  could  not  levy  armies, 
and  expend  public  money,  without  Congressional  sanction. 
Congress  would  be  loyal,  but  it  would  be  a  deliberative 
body,  and  to  wait  for  "many  men  of  many  minds "  to  shape 
a  war  policy  would  be  to  invite  disaster.  So  it  was  con- 
cluded to  call  Congress  to  meet  on  the  4th  of  July,  and 
to  trust  to  their  patriotism  to  sanction  the  war  measures 
taken  prior  to  that  time  by  the  Executive. 

President  Lincoln  drafted  the  substance  of  his  proposed 
Proclamation.  The  Secretary  of  War  undertook  to  ar- 
range the  respective  quotas  of  the  several  States.  The 
Secretary  of  State  brought  the  document  to  his  Depart- 
ment, and,  calling  together  his  clerks,  had  it  duly  per- 
fected in  form  and  engrossed.  The  President's  signature 
and  his  own  were  appended,  the  great  seal  affixed  that 
evening,  and  copies  were  given  to  the  press  that  it  might 
appear  in  the  newspapers  of  Monday  morning. 


The  Call  to  Arms  153 

The  response  to  the  Proclamation  at  the  North  was  all 
or  more  than  could  be  anticipated.  Every  Governor  of 
a  free  State  promptly  promised  that  his  quota  should  be 
forthcoming.  An  enthusiastic  outburst  of  patriotic  feel- 
ing— an  "uprising  of  the  North"  in  town  and  country 
— was  reported  by  telegraph.  Dispatches  poured  in  an- 
nouncing the  readiness  not  only  of  individuals,  but  of 
whole  organizations,  to  volunteer.  Party  lines  seemed 
to  be  swept  away.  Disunion  sympathizers  were  silenced. 
Whole  communities  were  vigorously  at  work  mustering 
troops  and  sending  them  forward  for  the  defence  of  the 
national  capital.  The  newspapers  were  filled  with  vivid 
pictures  of  the  scenes  of  popular  enthusiasm  in  New  York, 
Boston,  and  Philadelphia,  where  regiments  were  forming 
amid  the  waving  of  flags,  the  roaring  of  cannon,  and  the 
shouts  of  assembled  thousands. 

From  the  South,  the  echo  to  the  Proclamation  was  more 
sullen,  but  equally  significant.  Troops  for  the  Confeder- 
acy already  organized  were  hurrying  forward.  Veteran 
soldiers  were  marshalling  recruits.  Popular  feeling  in 
the  seceding  States  was  declared  to  be  unanimous. 
"Union"  utterances  were  silenced  and  the  South  was  said 
to  be  "bitterly  in  earnest  in  fighting  for  independence." 

From  the  border  States  came  indications  that,  while 
there  was  still  division  of  opinion,  the  outbreak  of  hos- 
tilities was  paralysing  the  Union  men  and  lending  new 
energy  to  the  Secessionists.  To  the  call  upon  them  for 
militia,  defiant  answers  were  returned.  "You  can  get 
no  troops  from  North  Carolina,"  telegraphed  the  Governor 
of  that  State;  "I  regard  the  levy  of  troops  made  by  the 
Administration  for  the  purpose  of  subjugating  the  States 
of  the  South,  as  a  violation  of  the  Constitution,  and  a 
usurpation  of  power."  The  Governor  of  Tennessee 
replied:  "Tennessee  will  not  furnish  a  single  man  for 
coercion,  but  fifty  thousand  if  necessary  for  the  defence 


154  The  Call  to  Arms 

of  our  rights  and  those  of  our  brethren."  The  Governor 
of  Kentucky  answered:  "Kentucky  will  furnish  no  troops 
for  the  wicked  purpose  of  subduing  her  sister  Southern 
States."  The  Governor  of  Missouri  said:  "Not  one  man 
will  the  State  of  Missouri  furnish  to  carry  on  so  unholy 
a  crusade."  The  Governor  of  Delaware  answered  more 
mildly:  "The  laws  of  this  State  do  not  confer  upon  the 
Executive  any  authority  allowing  him  to  comply  with 
such  a  requisition."  From  Maryland  came  no  immediate 
response.  From  Virginia  came  ominous  news  that  the 
convention  had  hastily  and  secretly  reversed  its  previous 
decision,  had  adopted  an  Ordinance  of  Secession,  and 
had  joined  the  Confederacy. 

The  President  of  the  Confederate  Government,  at 
Montgomery,  issued  a  proclamation,  offering  "letters  of 
marque  and  reprisal "  to  armed  privateers  of  any  nation. 
Active  measures  were  begun  for  organizing  troops  to  at- 
tack Washington. 

Of  the  regiments  called  for,  New  York  was  to  furnish 
seventeen,  Pennsylvania  sixteen,  and  Ohio  thirteen; 
while  the  quotas  from  the  other  States  ranged  from  one 
to  six. 

The  day  after  the  Proclamation  was  issued,  the  Massa- 
chusetts Sixth  Regiment  mustered  on  Boston  Common, 
and  on  the  following  evening,  armed  and  equipped,  was 
on  its  way  to  Washington.  Acclamations  greeted  it  along 
the  roads,  and  the  march  down  Broadway  in  New  York 
roused  the  popular  enthusiasm  to  the  highest  point.  The 
evening  of  Thursday  the  i8th  found  it  at  Philadelphia. 

The  same  evening  witnessed  the  arrival  in  Washington 
of  three  or  four  hundred  Pennsylvanians,  to  be  armed, 
equipped,  and  placed  in  regimental  organization  after 
reaching  the  capital.  These  were  the  first  comers  of  the 
new  levy. 

A  day  later  the  telegraph  announced  that  the  New  York 


Washington  Beleaguered  153 

Seventh  was  also  en  route  through  Philadelphia  and  that 
others  would  speedily  follow. 

Amid  a  general  outburst  of  patriotism  nothing  was  more 
significant  than  the  promptness  with  which  many  influ- 
ential Northern  Democrats  announced  their  determina- 
tion to  "stand  by  the  Government."  Chief  among  them 
was  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  Lincoln's  chief  competitor  in 
the  election,  who  now,  on  the  day  the  Proclamation  was 
signed,  visited  the  President  to  assure  him  of  hearty 
sympathy  and  co-operation. 

Washington  Beleaguered.  Washington  had  supposed 
itself  to  be  the  capital  of  the  United  States;  but  now  it 
was  suddenly  transformed  into  an  isolated  city,  in  an 
enemies'  country,  threatened  with  attack  from  the  hostile 
communities  all  around  it. 

On  the  1 9th  came  the  news  that  Virginia,  having  sud- 
denly become  a  hostile  power,  had  sent  troops  to  seize 
Harpers  Ferry.  The  lieutenant  in  charge  had  escaped 
with  his  little  garrison,  after  setting  fire  to  some  of  the 
buildings ;  but  the  rebels  had  thus  gained  an  important 
post,  with  valuable  machinery  and  a  large  amount  of  arms. 

Later  in  the  day  came  the  startling  intelligence  that  the 
mob  had  attacked  the  Massachusetts  and  Pennsylvania 
troops  as  they  were  coming  through  Baltimore.  The 
telegraph  and  evening  papers  soon  brought  confirmation 
showing  that  the  rioters  had  practical  control  of  Baltimore, 
and  of  the  railways  north,  thus  cutting  off  all  communica- 
tion between  the  North  and  the  capital. 

A  day  later  came  the  news  that  the  navy  yard  at  Nor- 
folk would  probably  share  the  fate  of  the  armory  at 
Harpers  Ferry.  Protected  only  by  a  few  marines,  it 
was  exposed  to  easy  capture.  The  vessels,  arms,  supplies, 
machinery,  buildings,  and  docks  had  cost  the  United 
States  Government  many  millions,  and  their  value  to 


156  Washington  Beleaguered 

insurgents  at  the  very  outset  of  a  rebellion  was  incalcula- 
ble. Possession  of  armory  and  navy  yard  would  place 
in  the  hands  of  the  rebels,  for  instant  use,  more  of  the 
material  of  war  than  the  Government  would  have  at  hand. 

Commodore  Paulding  was  sent  down  with  the  Pawnee 
to  rescue  and  bring  such  of  the  ships  and  supplies  as  might 
be  found  practicable.  He  found  on  arrival  that  the  ships 
had  already  been  scuttled,  and,  after  a  hasty  conference  of 
the  officers  of  the  expedition,  it  was  determined  that  since 
the  property  could  not  be  saved,  it  was  best  to  burn  and 
destroy  as  much  as  possible,  to  keep  it  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  rebels. 

Dangers  were  thickening  around  the  Federal  city  in  all 
directions.  With  Virginia  in  active  hostility  on  one  side, 
Maryland  was  taking  steps  to  prevent  all  help  on  the 
other.  The  Secessionists  were  holding  meetings,  muster- 
ing troops,  stopping  trains,  burning  railway  bridges. 
By  Saturday  it  was  known  that  railway  communication 
with  the  North  was  cut  off.  By  Sunday  night  the  tele- 
graph had  ceased  to  work,  and  it  was  realized  that  Wash- 
ington was  beleaguered  by  its  enemies  on  every  side. 

Washington  was  still  a  slaveholding  city.  Southern 
sympathies  pervaded  its  social  circles  and,  as  yet,  were  in 
its  official  circles.  When  it  began  to  look  as  if  the  city 
were  cut  off  from  all  Northern  help  and  would  soon  be 
captured  by  troops  advancing  from  the  South,  the  exul- 
tation of  secession  sympathizers  was  neither  concealed 
nor  repressed.  The  Confederate  flag  was  flying  at  Alex- 
andria, in  full  view  from  the  Capitol  and  the  White 
House.  Confederate  scouts  were  reported  to  be  posted 
at  the  end  of  the  bridge  connecting  the  city  with 
Virginia. 

In  the  streets  and  hotels  the  wildest  rumours  gained 
credence.  A  mob  was  reported  to  be  coming  over  from 
Baltimore,  to  burn  the  public  buildings  and  sack  the  town. 


The  War  Begun  157 

Confederate  vessels  were  declared  to  be  coming  up  from 
Norfolk  to  bombard  it.  Confederate  troops  were  as- 
serted to  be  marching  up  from  Richmond,  and  down  from 
Harpers  Ferry,  to  take  possession.  Forty  thousand 
"Virginia  volunteers  armed  with  bowie  knives,"  it  was 
said,  were  coming  over  the  Long  Bridge.  Business  was 
at  a  standstill.  The  railway  station  was  silent,  the 
wharves  deserted.  Groups  of  people  gathered  at  street 
corners  exchanging,  in  low  tones,  their  forebodings  of 
disaster,  or  their  hopes  of  relief. 

Government  clerks  cherishing  disloyal  sentiments  made 
haste  to  vacate  their  places,  and  Southern  army  and 
navy  officers  to  resign  their  commissions,  so  as  to  be 
ready  to  join  the  ranks  of  the  coming  conquerors. 

The  newspapers,  cut  off  from  their  usual  telegraphic 
facilities,  gave  such  intelligence  as  they  could  get,  but 
their  columns  would  hardly  hold  a  tithe  of  the  startling 
stories  that  were  flying  about  the  streets.  It  was  an- 
nounced that  the  Confederate  Secretary  of  War  at  Mont- 
gomery predicted  that  the  "Confederate  flag  would  float 
over  the  Capitol  at  Washington  before  the  1st  of  May." 

The  War  Begun.  Half  a  dozen  companies  of  the  regu- 
lar army  had  been  gathered  by  General  Scott,  and  distrib- 
uted where  most  needed  about  the  city.  The  batteries 
of  light  artillery  were  posted  to  guard  the  bridges.  The 
Capitol  was  barricaded,  and  the  Massachusetts  Sixth, 
which  had  fought  its  way  through  Baltimore,  was  quar- 
tered in  the  Senate  Chamber.  The  Pennsylvanians  had 
been  armed  and  assigned  to  similar  duty.  The  marines 
were  charged  with  the  defence  of  the  wharves  and  the 
navy  yard. 

The  District  militia,  which  the  General  had  organized 
for  the  inauguration,  now  proved  a  valuable  arm  of  defence. 
It  mustered  fifteen  companies.  They  were  distributed  to 


158  The  War  Begun 

guard  the  avenues  and  public  buildings.  Sentries  were 
posted,  ammunition  distributed,  and  a  system  of  signals 
arranged,  so  as  to  ensure  rapid  concentration  at  any  point 
attacked. 

Muskets  were  distributed  to  clerks  in  the  various  govern- 
ment offices,  and  many  private  residences  were  armed  for 
defence.  Two  companies  were  hastily  formed  by  visitors 
at  the  hotels  and  others,  under  the  leadership  of  Cassius 
M.  Clay  and  James  H.  Lane,  which  patrolled  the  streets 
and  performed  guard  duty. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  was  aroused  by 
loud  knocking  at  the  front  door,  and  descending  the 
stairs  to  ascertain  the  cause,  I  found,  outside,  one  of  these 
night  patrols.  They  informed  me  that  they  had  caught 
a  suspicious  prisoner,  evidently  a  Virginian,  whom  they 
thought  might  be  a  spy.  He  had  avowed  his  purpose  of 
going  to  Secretary  Seward's  house,  so  they  had  brought 
him  around  for  identification.  He  was  hastily  taken 
up,  under  guard,  to  my  father. 

Rousing  himself,  my  father  said:  "George,  is  that  you?" 
He  turned  out  to  be  a  young  man  from  Virginia,  who  had 
been  sent  over  by  his  mother,  a  loyal  Union  woman,  to 
tell  us  that  trains  were  running  on  the  Orange  &  Alex- 
andria Railroad  at  frequent  intervals,  all  night,  loaded 
with  armed  men  who  it  was  presumed  were  going  to 
attend  some  Confederate  rendezvous  at  Manassas  or 
elsewhere. 

George  was  released  by  the  patrol,  as  he  had  proved  to 
be  no  spy,  but  a  friend,  and  the  information  he  brought 
confirmed  the  news  that  the  Confederates  were  mustering 
somewhere  in  formidable  numbers. 

Our  military  force,  though  small,  was  believed  to  be 
sufficient  to  preclude  danger  of  a  surprise. 

A  few  days  later  came  the  welcome  intelligence  that 
the  New  York  Seventh  and  the  Massachusetts  Eighth 


The  War  Begun  159 

and  the  Seventy-first  of  New  York  had  arrived  at  An- 
napolis. 

The  rails  of  the  branch  railroad  had  been  torn  up,  and 
the  engines  disabled,  for  a  distance  of  nine  miles  to  the 
Washington  junction.  But  "Yankee"  soldiers  were  not 
to  be  checkmated  thereby.  General  Butler  drew  up  his 
forces,  in  parade  order,  at  the  Annapolis  navy  yard, 
and  requested  that  any  one  familiar  with  track  laying, 
or  engine  repairing,  should  step  to  the  front.  Twenty 
or  more  skilled  mechanics  promptly  responded  to  the 
call.  So  the  relieving  army  made  its  way  to  the  capital, 
laying  down  the  rails,  and  putting  the  trains  in  order,  to 
keep  up  its  communication.  Of  course  they  were  received 
at  the  national  capital  with  shouts  of  joy  by  the  Union 
men. 

Now  troops  came  pouring  in  for  the  defence  of  the 
capital.  Every  day  came  the  welcome  sound  of  drum  and 
fife,  and  the  cheering  gleam  of  bayonets.  The  long  lines 
of  newcomers  marched  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  passing 
the  State  Department  and  the  White  House,  and  pausing 
at  the  portal  of  the  War  Department  "  to  report  for  duty," 
and  to  be  assigned  to  their  respective  camps. 

These  were  at  first  in  the  vacant  squares  of  the  city, 
but  as  time  went  on,  and  the  army  continued  to  grow, 
they  were  pushed  out  into  the  suburbs,  and  on  the  ad- 
joining heights.  Many  of  these,  under  the  direction  of 
the  engineers,  soon  became  fortified  camps  and  forts.  In 
the  course  of  a  few  months,  every  hill  around  Washington 
was  crowned  with  an  earthwork,  and  the  city  was 
ultimately  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  fortifications,  sixty 
miles  in  circumference. 

The  President  and  Cabinet  found  it  necessary  and  de- 
sirable to  have  personal  representatives  in  New  York, 
empowered  to  act  with  promptness  in  the  emergencies 
now  daily  arising.  Orders  were  therefore  given  for  the 


160  The  War  Begun 

purchase,  charter,  and  arming  of  steamships  in  New  York, 
Boston,  and  Philadelphia,  and  extraordinary  powers,  in 
behalf  of  the  War  and  Navy  Departments,  were  bestowed 
upon  Governor  Morgan,  George  D.  Morgan,  William 
M.  Evarts,  R.  M.  Blatchford,  and  Moses  H.  Grinnell,  to 
whom  officers  should  report  for  instruction  and  advice 
in  forwarding  troops  and  supplies. 

Similar  powers  to  act  for  the  Treasury  Department  in 
expending  the  public  money  were  conferred  upon  John 
A.  Dix,  George  Opdyke,  and  R.  M.  Blatchford.  These 
gentlemen  were  to  give  no  security,  and  to  act  without 
compensation,  reporting  their  proceedings  when  com- 
munications should  be  re-established. 

How  faithfully  the  great  trust  was  discharged,  President 
Lincoln  himself,  at  a  later  day,  bore  testimony. 

He  said:  "The  several  Departments  of  the  Government, 
at  that  time,  contained  so  large  a  number  of  disloyal 
persons,  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  provide 
safely,  through  official  agents  only,  for  the  performance 
of  the  duties  thus  confided  to  citizens  favourably  known 
for  their  ability,  loyalty,  and  patriotism.  The  several 
orders  issued  upon  these  occurrences  were  transmitted 
by  private  messengers,  who  pursued  a  circuitous  way  to 
the  seaboard  cities,  inland  across  the  States  of  Penn- 
sylvania and  Ohio  and  the  Northern  Lakes.  I  believe 
that  by  these  and  similar  measures  taken  in  that  crisis, 
some  of  which  were  without  any  authority  of  law,  the 
Government  was  saved  from  overthrow.  I  am  not  aware 
that  a  dollar  of  the  public  funds,  thus  confided  without 
authority  of  law  to  unofficial  persons,  was  either  lost  or 
wasted." 

The  Proclamation  of  Blockade  was  issued  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  I  Qth  of  April.  Upon  the  Secretary  of  State 
of  course  devolved  the  duty  of  preparing  and  perfecting 
its  details.  My  father  had  bestowed  upon  these  much 


A  College  Classmate  161 

care  and  forethought,  in  view  of  the  many  warnings  al- 
ready received  from  abroad  that  advantage  would  be 
taken  by  foreign  Powers  of  any  opportunity  to  evade  and 
nullify  it. 

The  Confederates  themselves,  at  the  outset,  had  little 
apprehension  that  they  would  find  it  any  serious  trouble 
or  annoyance.  They  knew  that  our  navy  was  entirely 
inadequate  to  make  such  a  blockade  "effective,"  and 
they  had  plenty  of  assurances  from  England  and  France 
that  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  "paper  blockade"  would 
be  disregarded.  "Cotton  is  King,"  was  the  exultant 
cry,  "Europe  must  have  it  for  its  factories";  and  the 
South  had  almost  a  monopoly  of  the  staple  itself,  with 
twenty  or  more  seaports  to  ship  it  from,  and  millions  of 
slaves  to  cultivate,  convey,  and  ship  it. 

Having  possession  of  "King  Cotton,"  they  confidently 
believed  that  that  potentate  would  ensure  them  the  aid 
and  comfort  of  all  others.  It  would  give  them  continued 
trade  and  assure  them  of  ample  resources  for  carrying  on 
the  war. 

These  expectations  were  doomed  to  disappointment, 
for  by  the  activity  of  the  Government  at  Washington, 
and  that  of  its  vicegerents  in  New  York,  the  army  and 
navy  were  increasing  with  magic  rapidity.  Whole  fleets 
of  transports  and  gunboats  were  called  into  existence, 
and  dispatched  to  the  scene  of  hostilities. 

A  College  Classmate.  In  the  freshman  class  at  Union 
College  in  1845,  Daniel  Butterfield  and  I  were  the  young- 
est members.  We  were  friends  all  through  our  college 
days,  and  graduated  together  in  1849.  Then  we  drifted 
apart,  he  to  Utica  and  New  York,  I  to  Albany  and  Wash- 
ington. Then  for  ten  years  we  saw  no  more  of  each  other. 

In  April,  1861,  after  the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  the 
first  call  for  seventy-five  thousand  volunteers,  Washington 


1 62  A  College  Classmate 

was  in  an  excitement  bordering  on  panic.  The  Seces- 
sionists had  cut  the  telegraph  wires,  and  torn  up  the  rail- 
road tracks  and  bridges,  cutting  off  communication  with 
the  North.  They  were  erecting  batteries  on  the  Potomac, 
and  the  city  seemed  practically  beleaguered.  It  was  still 
a  Southern  town,  and  predictions  were  freely  made  that 
within  a  fortnight  it  would  be  captured  by  the  Confeder- 
ates. The  small  detachments  of  regular  troops  and 
the  companies  of  district  militia  organized  for  the  inaugu- 
ration were  able  to  guard  the  public  buildings  and  sup- 
plies, but  there  was  no  force  to  repel  such  an  invading 
attack  as  we  might  any  day  expect.  Excited  crowds 
thronged  the  streets  and  buzzed  in  the  Departments. 

My  room  at  the  State  Department  was  filled  with 
visitors,  officials  on  business,  members  of  Congress  with 
their  proteges,  who  wanted  offices,  consulates,  clerkships, 
claims,  or  commissions,  reporters  who  came  to  get  news, 
or  to  bring  it,  and  loungers  and  rumour-mongers  who 
appear  at  such  times  like  birds  of  ill  omen.  I  noticed 
in  the  crowd  the  face  of  my  old  college  friend,  Butter- 
field.  Taking  him  by  the  hand,  I  said : 

"Why  Dan,  where  did  you  come  from?  And  what  are 
you  doing  here." 

"I  am  going  back  home,  tired  and  disappointed,"  he 
said.  "I  thought  I  might  be  of  some  service,  but  find  I 
am  not  wanted.  I  have  been  all  day  at  the  War  Depart- 
ment, and  can't  get  a  hearing.  The  halls  and  rooms  are 
crowded.  The  doorkeepers  say  they  are  not  allowed  to 
take  any  more  names,  or  cards,  to  the  Secretary  of  War. 
The  officials  are  all  too  busy  to  listen,  or,  if  they  listen, 
have  no  power  to  act." 

"What  was  it  you  wanted  at  the  War  Department?" 
I  asked. 

"Only  permission  to  bring  my  regiment  on  here,  to 
defend  the  capital.  I  supposed  troops  were  wanted." 


A  College  Classmate  163 

"So  they  are,  and  urgently  and  immediately.  There 
must  be  some  misapprehension.  Come  with  me,  and  I 
will  go  back  with  you  and  get  you  an  audience  with 
Secretary  Cameron." 

We  hastened  over  to  the  War  Department  and  found 
things  as  he  had  described.  Of  course  I  was  known  to 
messengers  and  doorkeepers,  and  my  official  name  gave 
me  immediate  access  to  the  Secretary's  room.  He  was 
sitting  at  his  desk,  which  was  surrounded  by  an  eager 
crowd,  the  foremost  of  whom  seemed  to  be  haranguing 
him  on  the  merits  of  something  he  wanted  to  sell  to  the 
Government. 

"Mr.  Secretary,"  said  I,  "here  is  my  friend,  Colonel 
Butterfield,  who  has  something  to  say  to  you  that  I  think 
you  will  be  glad  to  hear." 

"What  is  it,  Mr.  Seward?" 

"He  has  a  regiment  to  offer  to  the  Government." 

"Why,  Colonel,  that  is  just  what  we  want.  What  is 
your  regiment?" 

"The  Twelfth  New  York  State  Militia,  sir,  of  which 
I  am  commander." 

"But  are  they  armed  or  equipped  or  clothed?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  tolerably  well  drilled.  We  foresaw  some 
time  ago  that  there  might  be  trouble,  and  so  we  got  in 
readiness  to  respond  to  any  call." 

"And  how  soon  could  you  get  them  here?" 

"Within  twenty-four  hours  after  receiving  orders  to 
start." 

"But  how  can  you  get  through?  You  know  communi- 
cations with  New  York  are  cut  off." 

"We  will  march  through  Baltimore,  sir.  Or  we  can 
come  round  by  sea,  and  up  Chesapeake  Bay  and  the 
Potomac.  I  have  made  a  provisional  arrangement  with 
the  steamer  Coatzacoalco,  which  is  all  ready  to  bring  us 
on." 


164  A  College  Classmate 

"Are  you  sure,  Colonel,  that  the  Government  can  rely 
on  these  statements  of  yours?" 

"I  believe  the  Secretary  of  State  will  vouch  for  me,  sir." 

When  this  assurance  was  confirmed,  the  Secretary  of 
War  looked  much  relieved. 

"Well,  Colonel,  your  regiment  will  be  very  welcome. 
You  shall  have  your  orders,  at  once." 

Butterfield  hurried  off.  When,  soon  after,  the  Twelfth 
New  York  came  marching  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  it 
received  an  ovation  of  cheers,  accompanied  by  the  waving 
of  flags,  hats,  and  handkerchiefs,  like  all  other  early  comers 
"to  the  front." 

The  Twelfth  was  assigned  to  Franklin  Square  for  its 
camp  ground.  Its  white  tents  and  neatly  kept  camps  in 
the  heart  of  the  city,  its  well  drilled  companies  in  their 
parades  and  tactical  exercises,  drew  continued  throngs 
of  visitors  and  made  it  a  fashionable  resort.  Colonel 
Butterfield's  prompt  address  and  soldierly  bearing  made 
him  a  favourite  at  the  War  Department,  and  the  Twelfth 
was  one  of  the  first  to  be  sent  out  on  active  service. 

In  May,  when  additional  regiments  were  to  be  raised 
for  the  regular  army,  Secretary  Cameron  notified  my 
father  of  officers  needed  for  New  York's  quota  and  asked 
for  names  for  new  commissions.  My  father  suggested 
that  of  Butterfield  for  a  Major's  place.  Secretary  Came- 
ron heartily  assented,  and  Butterfield  was  appointed. 

Before  the  year  was  over,  he  was  promoted  to  be  a 
Brigadier-General.  Then,  for  bravery  in  battle,  he  was 
again  promoted  to  be  Major-General,  and  in  1862  had 
become  Chief  of  Staff  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

His  subsequent  career  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  the 
war.  After  its  close,  he  resigned  and  went  into  business 
in  New  York — where,  a  few  years  later,  he  became  Assist- 
ant Treasurer  of  the  United  States. 


General  Scott  165 

Somewhere  toward  the  close  of  the  century,  I  was  at- 
tending a  banquet  of  the  Alumni  of  Union  College.  But- 
terfield,  as  President,  had  on  his  right  hand  General 
Miles,  then  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army,  while 
I  sat  on  his  left.  Introducing  us  to  each  other,  he  said: 
"General,  it  was  my  friend  Fred  Seward  here  who  put 
me  into  the  army." 

"Have  you  ever  thought,  Butterfield,"  said  I,  "where 
you  would  be  now,  if  you  had  stayed  in  it?" 

"No,"  said  he,  "but,  by  George,  I  believe  I  would 
have  been  at  the  head  of  it, — for  I  was  Miles's  senior  in 
service!" 

General  Scott.  General  Scott's  services  to  the  Union, 
at  the  outset  of  the  Civil  War,  have  never  been  fully 
appreciated.  His  military  experience  and  unswerving 
loyalty  greatly  helped  to  save  Washington  during  the 
interregnum  between  the  Presidential  election  and  the 
inauguration. 

He  was  born  in  Virginia,  like  Lee,  but  if  his  ideas  of 
fidelity  to  the  Government  had  been  like  those  of  his 
subordinate,  Washington  might  have  been  in  the  hands 
of  the  Confederates  before  Lincoln  was  inaugurated. 

"Old  Fuss  and  Feathers,"  as  they  called  him  when 
they  tried  to  drive  him  out  of  his  responsible  trust,  was 
inflexible  in  his  devotion  to  the  Union.  It  was  not  easy  to 
protect  the  capital  from  its  enemies  plotting  in  its  midst. 
So  strong  was  President  Buchanan's  desire  to  avoid  a 
clash  of  arms  during  his  time,  and  so  widely  had  the 
notion  spread  that  the  Federal  Government  "could  not 
coerce  a  State,"  that  General  Scott  was  hardly  allowed  to 
order  to  Washington  a  slender  guard  for  the  inauguration 
ceremonies.  As  for  reinforcing  the  Southern  forts,  that 
was  effectively  blocked  by  the  Secessionists,  until  too  late 
even  for  provisioning  them. 


166  General  Scott 

After  the  disunion  members  of  the  Cabinet  left  in 
January,  and  Dix,  Stanton,  Holt,  and  King  were  among  the 
President's  trusted  advisers,  it  became  possible  for  the 
General  to  summon  small  detachments  of  regular  troops 
and  post  them  where  they  could  be  of  service.  With  the 
help  of  Colonel  Stone,  he  also  organized  an  effective  force 
out  of  loyal  companies  of  the  District  militia.  So  that 
danger  was  tided  over. 

The  General  favoured  every  form  of  conciliation  that 
would  avert  war.  When  war  proved  inevitable,  he  set 
vigorously  to  work,  in  spite  of  his  seventy-five  years  and 
infirmities,  to  maintain  and  defend  the  Union,  organize 
and  equip  its  armies,  and  plan  its  campaigns. 

After  the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  the  first  call  for 
troops  by  President  Lincoln,  the  Confederates  seized 
railroads  and  telegraphs,  cutting  off  Washington  from 
communication  with  the  North.  It  became  like  a  be- 
leaguered city.  While  hoping  for  and  expecting  its  de- 
fenders, there  was  no  assurance  that  they  were  on  their 
way.  The  General  took  up  his  post,  by  night  as  well  as 
by  day,  at  the  War  Department.  In  the  middle  of  one 
night,  I  was  roused  up  by  one  of  the  several  scouts  we  had 
sent  out  for  news. 

He  brought  the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  Eighth 
Massachusetts,  the  Seventh  New  York,  and  Seventy-first 
New  York  regiments  had  landed  at  Annapolis  and  were 
in  possession  of  the  navy  yard.  The  railroad  having 
been  torn  up  by  the  enemy,  they  would  march  across 
country  to  the  capital.  I  took  the  bearer  of  the  good 
news  over  to  the  War  Department,  and  found  General 
Scott  wrapped  in  a  military  cloak  and  stretched  on  a 
settee.  He  rose  with  difficulty,  but  was  at  once  alert 
and  ready  for  business.  He  summoned  his  staff,  and 
before  daybreak  he  was  issuing  orders  about  routes  and 
rations,  and  advising  how  obstacles  and  surprises  were 


General  Scott  167 

to  be  avoided.  Thenceforward  every  incoming  regiment 
marched  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue  to  salute  the  President 
and  the  Commanding  General,  and  receive  their  orders  as 
to  their  location  and  their  duties. 

By  the  end  of  April,  ten  or  twelve  thousand  troops  had 
arrived  and  others  were  on  their  way.  It  was  my  father's 
custom,  at  this  period,  after  the  Department  closed  for 
the  day,  to  take  an  afternoon  drive  to  visit  the  camps  of 
the  different  regiments.  Frequently  the  drive  was  ter- 
minated by  a  call  upon  General  Scott,  at  his  office  or  his 
lodgings.  In  either  place,  his  surroundings  were  those 
of  active  military  service,  the  sentry  pacing  before  his 
door,  the  orderly  sitting  in  the  hall,  the  aides-de-camp  at 
their  respective  desks,  and  the  General's  table  covered 
with  maps,  dispatches,  and  calculations. 

One  day,  while  exchanging  news  and  comparing  views, 
my  father  remarked:  "We  are  gathering  a  large  army. 
What  I  do  not  yet  foresee  is  how  it  is  to  be  led?  What 
are  we  to  do  for  generals?" 

"That  is  a  subject,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  the  old  com- 
mander, "that  I  have  thought  much  about.  If  I  could 
only  mount  a  horse,  I — "  then  checking  himself,  with 
a  shake  of  his  head,  he  added,  "but  I  am  past  that.  I  can 
only  serve  my  country  as  I  am  doing  here  now,  in  my 
chair." 

"Even  if  you  had  your  youth  and  strength  again, 
General,  it  might  not  be  worth  as  much  to  us  as  your 
experience.  In  any  case,  you  would  need  commanders 
of  military  training  to  carry  out  your  orders." 

"There  are  few  who  have  had  command  in  the  field, 
even  of  a  brigade,"  said  the  General.  "But,"  he  added 
reflectively,  "there  is  excellent  material  in  the  army  to 
make  generals  of.  There  are  good  officers.  Unfortu- 
nately for  us,  the  South  has  taken  most  of  those  holding 
the  higher  grades.  We  have  captains  and  lieutenants 


168  General  Scott 

that,  with  time  and  experience,  will  develop,  and  will  do 
good  service." 

Proceeding  to  name  over  several  officers,  or  West  Point 
graduates,  in  whom  he  evidently  felt  interest  and  pride, 
he  mentioned  McClellan,  Franklin,  Hancock,  Hooker, 
Mansfield,  Sherman,  Sumner,  Halleck,  and  others  actually 
or  recently  in  the  army. 

"There  is  one  officer  who  would  make  an  excellent 
general,"  he  continued,  "but  I  do  not  know  whether  we 
can  rely  on  him.  He  lives  not  far  away,  and  I  have  sent 
over  to  see.  I  had  expected  to  hear  from  him  today. 
If  he  comes  in  tomorrow,  I  shall  know." 

"  I  will  not  ask  his  name  until  you  hear  from  him,  then, 
General,  though  I  think  I  can  guess  whom  you  mean." 

A  day  or  two  later,  reverting  to  their  conversation  on 
the  subject,  my  father  remarked: 

"You  were  expecting  to  hear  from  some  officer  you 
thought  well  of.  Did  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  General,  "it  was  too  late.  He  had 
decided  to  go  'with  his  State,'  as  the  phrase  is  now.  I 
am  sorry,  both  on  our  account  and  on  his  own." 

That  was  the  turning  point  in  the  life  of  Robert  E. 
Lee. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  conflict  we  had  a  rapidly  grow- 
ing army,  and  capable  officers  to  organize  and  drill  it. 
But  there  was  no  one  except  General  Scott  to  devise  a 
general  plan  of  campaign.  The  Administration  had  no 
member  who  had  ever  "set  a  squadron  on  the  field,"  and 
our  military  commanders  had  not  yet  become  versed  in 
the  problems  of  "great  strategy." 

Scott  therefore  was  the  authority  to  whom  all  turned. 
His  "plan  of  campaign"  was  submitted  to  the  Cabinet. 
It  was  simple  and  yet  comprehensive.  Briefly  it  was,  to 
fortify  Washington,  and  mass  a  great  army  in  and  around 
it;  this  army,  at  the  outset,  to  be  held  and  used,  not  as 


General  Scott's  Stories  169 

an  aggressive,  but  a  defensive  one,  and  as  a  base  for  expe- 
ditions elsewhere.  Meantime,  to  begin  aggressive  opera- 
tions by  marching  another  army  down  the  Mississippi, 
clearing  the  river,  fortifying  it,  and  opening  it  to  com- 
merce. This  would  cut  the  Confederacy  in  two,  and 
weaken  it,  both  in  men  and  resources,  for  the  final  struggle, 
which  would  doubtless  take  place  at  the  East. 

The  plan  was  approved  and  pursued.  In  the  coming 
months  and  years,  there  were  frequent  departures  from 
it,  due  to  impatience  or  miscalculation,  and  nearly  all 
ending  in  disaster.  But,  reverted  to  again,  it  was,  on 
the  whole,  the  line  of  policy  which  led  to  ultimate  success, 
by  opening  the  way  for  the  final  "great  strategy"  of 
Grant  and  Sherman. 

May,  1 86 1. 

General  Scott's  Stories.  General  Scott's  massive  mili- 
tary figure  and  dignified  demeanour  were  rather  awe- 
inspiring  to  strangers.  In  social  life,  his  conversation  was 
always  entertaining  and  his  anecdotes  often  amusing. 
One  of  his  stories,  when  the  subject  of  dreams  was  under 
discussion,  was  of  an  incident  of  the  battle  of  Chippewa, 
in  1814. 

On  the  eve  of  the  engagement,  for  which  both  Americans 
and  British  were  preparing,  he  was  sitting  in  his  head- 
quarters, issuing  orders  and  arranging  for  the  disposition 
of  his  forces.  Unexpectedly,  there  appeared  in  the  door- 
way the  familiar  form  of  a  friend  engaged  in  mercantile 
pursuits  in  Philadelphia. 

"Why  my  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  "what  in  the  world 
brings  you  here?  Always  glad  to  see  you, — you  know — 
but  really  I  haven't  time  to  talk  to  you.  It  is  a  very  in- 
opportune time  for  a  visit.  We  are  just  on  the  eve  of  a 
battle,  probably  tomorrow  morning.  You  will  have  to 
leave  me  now,  and  come  again  later." 


170  General  Scott's  Stories 

"Yes,"  his  friend  replied,  "I  understood  you  might  be 
having  some  fighting  about  now.  In  fact,  that  was  what 
brought  me  up  here." 

"How  can  that  be?  You  are  a  civilian,  and  are  run- 
ning into  unnecessary  danger,  where  you  can  be  of  no 
use." 

"Don't  let  me  interrupt  you,  General.  Go  on  with 
your  work.  I  think  I'll  stop  over  here  tomorrow.  I 
can  get  an  army  blanket,  and  lie  down  for  the  night 
anywhere  out  of  the  way." 

"But  what  possible  object  can  you  have  in  such  a 
proceeding?" 

"Well,  General,  I  have  been  a  good  deal  disturbed  by 
a  dream  I  had  lately." 

"A  dream?    What  has  that  to  do  with  it?" 

"Why,  I  dreamed  I  was  in  a  battle.  And  while  the 
battle  was  going  on,  I  ran  away.  Then  I  woke  up,  and 
wondered  whether  I  really  was  such  a  coward.  It  has 
worried  me  ever  since.  So  I  came  up  here  to  see." 

The  General  laughed.  "Why,  my  dear  friend,"  said 
he,  "that's  nothing.  Everybody  runs  away  in  their 
dreams.  We  are  swayed  by  momentary  impulses  in  our 
dreams — not  by  reason  or  judgment.  That  doesn't 
prove  you  a  coward." 

"Perhaps  so,"  his  visitor  said,  doubtfully,  "but  I'd 
like  to  find  out." 

All  the  General's  arguments  could  not  move  him  from 
his  purpose.  Finally  he  said :  "Well,  if  you  insist  on  stay- 
ing, there  is  certainly  work  to  be  done,  even  by  civilians. 
You  can  serve  as  a  volunteer  aide,  and  I'll  promise  you 
that  you'll  get  under  fire." 

"Just  what  I  want,"  said  the  visitor. 

Sure  enough  the  battle  came  on,  hot  and  heavy.  All 
the  General's  aides  were  soon  dashing  across  the  field,  on 
various  errands.  Only  the  volunteer  was  left. 


Saint  Cyr  Cadets  171 

"Do  you  think  you  could  carry  an  order  to  Colonel 
so  and  so,  whose  regiment  is  posted  on  yonder  hill?" 

"Try  me." 

In  another  moment,  he  was  on  his  way — regardless  of 
the  hail  of  bullets.  Back  to  report,  he  asked  for  another 
order  and  another.  So  he  fought  gallantly  all  day,  till 
the  victory  was  won. 

Scott  congratulated  him.  "Now  you  have  found  your 
true  vocation.  You  are  a  soldier.  I  am  sending  my 
dispatches  to  the  War  Department,  and  shall  ask  a  com- 
mission for  you,  on  my  staff." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  General,  but  I  am  not  looking  for 
military  glory.  I  have  found  out  that  I  am  not  a  coward. 
That  was  all  I  came  for.  I  shall  go  back  to  Philadelphia 
now  to  my  business  perfectly  contented  and  satisfied." 

And  that  was  just  what  he  did. 


Saint  Cyr  Cadets.  Once,  when  in  France,  the  General 
went  to  make  a  visit  to  the  military  school  of  St.  Cyr. 
He  found  a  group  of  young  cadets  gathered  around  an 
old  soldier,  and  listening  eagerly  to  his  stories  of  Napoleon's 
campaigns.  He  was  a  sergeant  of  the  "Old  Guard." 
He  was  telling  them  of  the  charge  up  the  hill  at  the  battle 
of  Austerlitz.  Even  the  "Old  Guard"  was  twice  repulsed 
with  fearful  slaughter,  losing  more  than  one  third  of  its 
whole  number.  Then,  said  Frangois,  "I  heard  the  order 
of  the  officer  reforming  our  lines,  and  saying,  'En  avant, 
mes  braves,  that  battery  must  be  taken." 

"Oh,  Frangois,"  interrupted  one  of  the  young  cadets, 
"how  did  you  feel  when  you  heard  that  dreadful  order?" 

"Feel,"  said  Francois,  "feel— why,  I  felt  to  the  left, 
to  be  sure,  how  else  should  a  soldier  feel?"  (French 
soldiers  kept  in  touch  with  their  comrades  with  the  left 
elbow.) 


172  Circular  Dispatch  on  the  Military  Situation 

The  Circular  Dispatch  on  the  Military  Situation.  ' '  Wars 
and  rumours  of  wars,"  is  but  a  mild  expression  for  the 
mass  of  wild  conflicting  rumours  and  reports,  mistakes 
and  misstatements,  misrepresentations  and  falsehoods, 
that  pass  under  the  name  of  "news"  in  time  of 
war. 

So  manifestly  contradictory  and  unreliable  was  the 
news  sent  out  from  Washington  during  April  and  May, 
1861,  that  my  father  decided  to  prepare  once  a  week  a 
circular  dispatch  to  each  and  all  of  our  diplomatic  repre- 
sentatives abroad,  a  concise  and  reliable  statement  of 
the  news  received  by  the  Government,  from  its  army  and 
navy.  This  was  entitled  "The  Circular  Dispatch  on  the 
Military  Situation."  It  was  usually  prepared  by  his  own 
hand,  so  that  it  might  be  free  from  all  exaggeration.  It 
was  continued  throughout  the  war. 

Our  ministers  abroad  found  themselves  much  aided  in 
their  work  by  this  weekly  circular.  Not  only  was  it 
useful  to  them  in  contradicting  unfounded  reports,  but 
foreign  governments  themselves  soon  learned  that  if  they 
wished  to  keep  themselves  posted  on  the  events  of  the 
war,  they  could  rely  on  the  advices  received  by  each 
American  minister  for  accurate  facts,  instead  of  trusting 
to  the  chaotic  utterances  of  the  press,  or  even  the  dis- 
patches, necessarily  based  on  imperfect  information,  of 
their  own  legations  at  Washington. 

Of  course,  these  circulars  amounted  in  the  course  of 
four  years  to  a  considerable  volume.  Mr.  Baker,  in  his 
fifth  volume  of  Seward's  Works,  has  gathered  them  all 
together,  under  the  title  of  Diary  or  Notes  on  the  War. 
Now,  after  the  lapse  of  half  a  century,  I  find  they  offer 
a  convenient  compend  of  the  history  of  the  war.  Events 
and  dates  are  there  set  down  in  exactly  the  order  in  which 
news  of  them  was  received  each  week  by  the  Government 
at  Washington. 


Under  Fire  from  a  French  Frigate      173 

Under  Fire  from  a  French  Frigate.  In  the  early  part 
of  President  Lincoln's  Administration,  a  French  frigate 
(I  think  the  Gassendi)  came  up  the  Potomac  on  a  visit 
of  observation,  and  lay  for  a  time  at  anchor  just  off  the 
Washington  navy  yard,  which  was  then  under  command 
of  Captain  (afterwards  Admiral)  Dahlgren.  The  usual 
courtesies  were  exchanged  between  ship  and  shore. 

One  day  the  French  Minister,  M.  Mercier,  brought 
her  captain  to  present  him  to  the  Secretary  of  State.  He 
said  they  would  esteem  it  a  special  favour,  if  the  President 
would  visit  the  Gassendi  and  receive  from  her  a  national 
salute.  It  was  a  graceful  suggestion,  and  would  tend  to 
promote  international  friendship.  Our  relations  with 
the  French  Government  had  already  been  somewhat 
strained,  and  threatened  to  become  more  so. 

So  the  Secretary  thought  it  would  be  good  policy  to 
accept  the  invitation.  Mr.  Lincoln  expressed  his  willing- 
ness to  go,  and  remarked  that,  as  yet,  he  was  not  very 
familiar  with  war-vessels,  and  would  like  to  see  how  the 
French  frigate  looked. 

A  day  was  appointed,  and  I  drove  down  with  him  to 
the  navy  yard.  Neither  of  his  private  secretaries  ac- 
companied him,  but  there  were  two  other  young  men. 
Received  with  due  honours  at  the  navy  yard,  he  was  es- 
corted to  the  barge  of  the  commandant,  manned  by  half 
a  dozen  sailors.  Captain  Dahlgren  himself  took  the  tiller 
ropes,  and  we  were  pulled  rapidly  out  toward  the  ship. 

She  lay  with  her  bows  pointing  out  into  the  stream,  so 
we  approached  under  her  stern.  She  was  gay  with  bunt- 
ing in  honour  of  her  distinguished  guest.  Her  crew  were 
beat  to  quarters,  and  her  commander  and  officers  in  full 
uniform  were  at  the  gangway  to  welcome  him.  Presenta- 
tions followed,  drums  rolled  and  bugles  sounded,  while 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  were  unfurled  at  the  top  of  the 
mainmast. 


174      Under  Fire  from  a  French  Frigate 

Champagne  and  a  brief  conversation  in  the  captain's 
cabin  came  next;  then  a  walk  up  and  down  her  decks  to 
look  at  her  armament  and  equipment.  Though  the  sur- 
roundings were  all  new  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  he  bore  himself 
with  his  usual  quiet,  homely,  unpretentious  dignity  on 
such  occasions,  and  chatted  affably  with  some  of  the 
officers  who  spoke  English.  The  visit  over,  we  were 
escorted  to  the  side  ladder,  and  re-embarked  in  our  barge. 

As  Mr.  Lincoln  took  his  seat  in  the  stern  he  said:  "Sup- 
pose we  row  around  her  bows.  I  should  like  to  look  at  her 
build  and  rig  from  that  direction."  Captain  Dahlgren 
of  course  shifted  his  helm  accordingly.  The  French 
officers  doubtless  had  not  heard  or  understood  the  Pre- 
sident's remark,  and  supposed  we  were  pulling  off  astern 
in  the  ordinary  way. 

We  had  hardly  reached  her  bow,  when,  on  looking  up, 
I  saw  the  officer  of  the  deck  pacing  the  bridge,  watch  in 
hand  and  counting  off  the  seconds,  "  Un,  deux,  trois," 
and  then  immediately  followed  the  flash  and  deafening 
roar  of  a  cannon,  apparently  just  over  our  heads.  Another 
followed,  then  another  and  another  in  rapid  succession. 
We  were  enveloped  in  smoke  and  literally  "under  fire" 
from  the  frigate's  broadside.  Captain  Dahlgren  sprang 
to  his  feet,  his  face  aflame  with  indignation,  as  he  shouted: 
"  Pull  like  the  devil,  boys !  Pull  like  hell ! " 

They  obeyed  with  a  will,  and  a  few  sturdy  strokes  took 
us  out  of  danger.  After  he  had  resumed  his  seat  and 
calmed  down,  I  said  in  a  low  voice:  "Of  course  those  guns 
were  not  shotted,  and  we  were  below  their  range?" 

He  answered,  gritting  his  teeth,  "Yes,  but  to  think  of 
exposing  the  President  to  the  danger  of  having  his  head 
taken  off  by  a  wad!" 

I  did  not  know,  until  he  explained,  that  the  wadding 
blown  to  pieces  by  the  explosion  sometimes  commences 
dropping  fragments  soon  after  leaving  the  gun.  Whether 


Why  Maryland  did  not  Secede         175 

Mr.  Lincoln  realized  the  danger  or  not,  I  never  knew.  He 
sat  impassively  through  it,  and  made  no  reference  to  it 
afterwards. 

August,  1 86 1. 

Why  Maryland  did  not  Secede.  On  a  bright  summer 
day  in  1861,  callers  at  the  White  House  in  Washington 
were  informed  that  the  President  had  gone  out  for  a  drive, 
and  that  he  war  accompanied  by  the  Secretary  and  Assist- 
ant Secretary  of  State.  When  more  curious  observers 
noted  the  course  of  the  carriage,  they  saw  that  it  stopped  at 
the  door  of  the  headquarters  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
Presently,  General  McClellan  came  out  and  joined  the 
party,  taking  the  vacant  seat.  The  carriage  was  then 
rapidly  driven  over  toward  Georgetown  Heights.  It  was 
a  natural  and  reasonable  conclusion,  that  the  official 
party  had  gone  up  to  inspect  the  camps  and  fortifications 
now  beginning  to  cover  the  hills  in  the  direction  of  Ten- 
nallytown.  So  the  event  was  duly  chronicled  in  the 
press,  and  the  statement  was  deemed  satisfactory  by  the 
public. 

But,  on  reaching  the  Heights,  there  was  no  stop  for 
inspection,  and  only  cursory  glances  were  bestowed  on 
camps  and  troops.  The  occupants  of  the  carriage  had 
been  generally  silent  while  passing  through  the  city,  but 
once  outside  of  the  military  lines  they  began  to  converse. 

"General  Banks  will  be  expecting  us,  I  reckon,"  ob- 
served the  President. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  General  McClellan.  "I  have 
telegraphed  him.  He  will  meet  us  at  his  headquarters, 
at  Rockville,  and  will  provide  a  quiet  place  for  conference." 

"I  suppose,"  queried  General  McClellan,  in  turn,  "that 
General  Dix  has  his  instructions  also." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln.  "Governor  Seward  went 
over  to  Baltimore  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  spent  some  hours 
with  him  at  Fort  McHenry.  So  he  is  fully  informed." 


176          Why  Maryland  did  not  Secede 

"Then  he  will  take  care  of  the  members  in  that  part  of 
the  State?" 

The  Secretary  of  State  smiled:  "General  Dix's  views 
on  the  subject  of  hauling  down  the  American  flag  are 
pretty  well  known.  He  can  be  depended  upon." 

The  carriage  whirled  on,  as  fast  as  the  rather  rutty 
and  broken  roads  would  permit,  until,  some  hours  later, 
it  drew  up  at  the  door  of  a  tavern  in  the  little  village  of 
Rockville,  which  for  the  time  was  in  use  by  General  Banks 
as  his  headquarters.  He  was  in  command  of  a  district 
of  rather  uncertain  size,  with  a  limited  force,  posted  to 
the  best  advantage  to  watch  the  river  crossings.  His 
aides  and  a  squad  or  two  of  soldiers  were  with 
him. 

He  greeted  his  visitors  courteously,  and  soon  after 
led  the  way  to  a  small  grove  near  by,  which  had  shady 
seats  and  no  obstructing  bushes.  Here  they  could  con- 
verse freely,  without  being  overheard,  or  even  seen,  unless 
they  themselves  noticed  their  observers. 

The  purpose  of  the  conference  was  then  unfolded  and 
discussed.  It  was  in  regard  to  a  measure  that  it  was 
thought  wise  not  to  trust  to  paper  or  to  subordinates. 

The  Secessionists  had  by  no  means  given  up  the  hope 
of  dragging  Maryland  into  the  Confederacy.  The  Legis- 
lature was  to  meet  at  Frederick  City  on  the  i/th  of  Sep- 
tember. There  was  believed  to  be  a  disunion  majority, 
and  they  expected  and  intended  to  pass  an  ordinance  of 
secession.  This  would  be  regarded  as  a  call  to  active 
revolt  by  many  who  were  now  submitting  to  Federal  rule. 
In  Baltimore  and  throughout  Maryland  the  bloody  ex- 
periences of  Virginia  and  Missouri  would  probably  be 
repeated.  Governor  Hicks  was  a  loyal  Union  man,  but 
would  be  unable  to  control  the  Legislature.  The  Union 
members  were  understood  to  be  divided  in  opinion  as  to 
the  expediency  of  going  to  Frederick  to  fight  the  proposed 


Why  Maryland  did  not  Secede         177 

ordinance,  or  staying  away,  in  the  hope  of  blocking  a 
quorum. 

The  Administration,  therefore,  had  decided  to  take  a 
bold  step  that  would  assuredly  prevent  the  adoption  of 
any  such  ordinance.  To  forcibly  prevent  a  legislative 
body  from  exercising  its  functions,  of  course,  savours 
of  despotism,  and  is  generally  so  regarded.  But  when, 
departing  from  its  legitimate  functions,  it  invites  the 
public  enemy  to  plunge  the  State  into  anarchy,  its  dis- 
solution becomes  commendable.  So  the  Administration 
reasoned  and  decided. 

As  few  persons  as  possible  would  be  informed  before- 
hand. General  Dix  and  General  Banks,  commanding  re- 
spectively the  eastern  and  western  portions  of  the  State, 
were  instructed  to  carefully  watch  the  movements  of 
members  of  the  Legislature  who  were  expected  to  respond 
to  the  summons  to  Frederick.  Loyal  Union  members 
would  not  be  interfered  with.  They  would  be  free  to 
come  and  go,  perform  their  legislative  duties,  or  stay 
away,  just  as  they  pleased.  But  disunion  members 
starting  to  go  there  would  be  quietly  turned  back  toward 
their  homes,  and  would  not  reach  Frederick  City  at  all. 
The  views  of  each  disunion  member  were  pretty  well 
known,  and  generally  rather  loudly  proclaimed.  So 
there  would  be  little  difficulty,  as  Mr.  Lincoln  remarked, 
in  "separating  the  sheep  from  the  goats." 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  the  carriage  party  re- 
turned to  Washington.  Sentries  had  been  posted  for  the 
night,  but  the  commanding  General  had  the  countersign, 
and  all  reached  their  homes  quietly  without  observation. 

The  public  anxiously  awaited  the  coming  of  the  eventful 
day  which  was  to  determine  whether  Maryland  would 
sever  her  connection  with  the  Union.  When  the  time 
arrived  which  had  been  appointed  for  the  assembling  of 
the  Legislature,  it  was  found  that  not  only  was  no  seces- 


178  France  and  England  vs.  United  States 

sion  ordinance  likely  to  be  adopted,  but  that  there  seemed 
to  be  no  Secessionists  to  present  one.  The  two  generals 
had  carried  out  their  instructions  faithfully,  and  with  tact 
and  discretion.  The  Union  members  returned  to  their 
homes  rejoicing.  No  ordinance  was  adopted,  Baltimore 
remained  quiet,  and  Maryland  stayed  in  the  Union. 

Of  course  the  Administration  were  prepared  for  the 
storm  of  invective  that  was  hurled  at  them  through  the 
press.  Their  "high-handed  usurpation"  was  said  to  be 
paralleled  only  by  "the  acts  of  Cromwell  and  Napoleon." 
But  even  the  denouncers  were  somewhat  mystified  as  to 
the  way  in  which  things  had  happened.  Cromwell  and 
Napoleon  were  more  spectacular,  but  Dix  and  Banks  were 
equally  effective. 

There  are  still  some  who  unconsciously  lament  these 
events  in  the  history  of  "My  Maryland"  to  the  melodi- 
ous strains  of  Lauriger  Horatius.  But  Union  men  and 
disunion  men  alike  had  good  reason,  during  the  next 
three  years,  to  thank  God  that  Maryland  had  been  spared 
the  misery  and  desolation  that  overtook  her  sister  Virginia. 

France  and  England  vs.  the  United  States.  Early  in 
the  war,  we  learned  through  the  Legation  at  St.  Peters- 
burg that  an  understanding  had  been  effected  between 
the  governments  of  Great  Britain  and  France  that  they 
should  take  one  and  the  same  course  on  the  subject  of  the 
American  war,  including  the  possible  recognition  of  the 
rebels.  Later,  this  understanding  was  distinctly  avowed 
by  M.  Thouvenel  to  Mr.  Sanford  at  Paris. 

This  alliance  for  joint  action  might  dictate  its  own  terms. 
From  a  joint  announcement  of  neutrality,  it  would  be 
but  a  step  to  joint  mediation  or  intervention;  and  it  was 
hardly  to  be  anticipated  that  the  Washington  Government, 
struggling  with  an  insurrection  which  had  rent  the  country 
asunder,  would  be  willing  to  face  also  the  combined  power 


France  and  England  vs.  United  States  179 

of  the  two  great  empires  of  Western  Europe.  To  the 
mind  of  the  French  and  English  statesmen  the  project  was 
even  praiseworthy.  It  would  stop  the  effusion  of  blood 
and  increase  the  supply  of  cotton.  It  would  leave  the 
American  Union  permanently  divided;  but  that  was  a 
consummation  that  European  statesmen  in  general  would 
not  grieve  over. 

On  the  morning  of  the  I5th  of  June,  a  scene  occurred 
at  the  State  Department,  which,  though  it  has  elicited 
but  cursory  attention  from  the  historian,  has  had  more 
influence  on  the  affairs  of  the  nation  than  a  pitched 
battle. 

My  father  was  sitting  at  his  table,  writing  dispatches, 
when  the  messenger  announced : 

"The  British  Minister  is  here  to  see  you,  sir,  and  the 
French  Minister  also." 

"Which  came  first?" 

"Lord  Lyons,  sir,  but  they  say  they  both  want  to  see 
you  together." 

He  instinctively  guessed  the  motive  for  so  unusual  a 
diplomatic  proceeding.  He  paused  a  moment,  and  then 
said: 

"Show  them  both  into  the  Assistant  Secretary's  room, 
and  I  will  come  in  presently." 

I  was  at  my  writing  table  when  the  two  ministers  en- 
tered. We  exchanged  the  usual  salutations,  though  I 
fancied  I  perceived  there  was  an  air  of  rather  more  than 
usual  constraint  and  reserve  in  their  manner.  They  sat 
down  together  on  the  sofa. 

A  few  minutes  later,  as  they  were  sitting  there  side  by 
side,  the  door  opened  and  my  father  entered.  Smiling 
and  shaking  his  head,  he  said : 

"No,  no,  no.  This  will  never  do.  I  cannot  see  you 
in  that  way." 

The  ministers  rose  to  greet  him.     "True,"  said  one 


i8o  France  and  England  vs.  United  States 

of  them,  "it  is  unusual,  but  we  are  obeying  our  in- 
structions." 

"And  at  least,"  said  the  other,  "you  will  allow  us  to 
state  the  object  of  our  visit?" 

"No,"  said  my  father.  "We  must  start  right  about 
it,  whatever  it  is.  M.  Mercier,  will  you  do  me  the  favour 
of  coming  to  dine  with  me  this  evening?  Then  we  can 
talk  over  your  business  at  leisure.  And  if  Lord  Lyons 
will  step  into  my  room  with  me  now,  we  will  discuss  what 
he  has  to  say  to  me." 

' '  If  you  refuse  to  see  us  together "  began  the  French 

envoy,  with  a  courteous  smile  and  shrug. 

"Certainly  I  do  refuse  to  see  you  together,  though  I 
will  see  either  of  you  separately  with  pleasure,  here  or 
elsewhere," 

So  the  interviews  were  held  severally,  not  conjointly, 
and  the  papers  which  they  had  been  instructed  to  jointly 
present  and  formally  read  to  him  were  left  for  his  informal 
inspection.  A  brief  examination  of  them  only  was  neces- 
sary to  enable  him  to  say,  courteously,  but  with  decision, 
that  he  declined  to  hear  them  read,  or  to  receive  official 
notice  of  them'. 

His  next  dispatches  to  our  ministers  at  London  and 
Paris  informed  them  of  the  event.  To  Mr.  Dayton  he 
said: 

"The  concert  thus  avowed  has  been  carried  out.  The 
ministers  came  to  me  together;  the  instructions  they  pro- 
posed to  read  to  me  differ  in  form,  but  are  counterpart  in 
effect.  This  is  conclusive  in  determining  this  Govern- 
ment not  to  allow  the  instruction  to  be  read  to  it." 

To  Mr.  Adams  he  added : 

"We  should  insist,  in  this  case,  as  in  all  others,  on  deal- 
ing with  each  of  these  Powers  alone.  This  Government 
is  sensible  of  the  importance  of  the  step  it  takes  in  declin- 
ing to  receive  the  communication." 


The  French  Princes  181 

July,  1861. 

After  Bull  Run.  From  the  window  of  the  State  Depart- 
ment we  looked  down  upon  a  motley  crowd  of  demoralized 
soldiers  and  curious  civilians  which  thronged  the  streets 
for  a  day  or  two  after  the  battle  of  Bull  Run.  Our  chief 
subject  of  anxiety  was  not  so  much  the  possibility  of  re- 
trieving the  disaster,  as  the  certain  effect  that  the  event 
would  have  upon  opinion  in  Europe. 

Meanwhile  my  father  sat  at  his  desk  penning  these 
words  for  his  "circular  dispatch  on  the  military  situation." 

"You  will  receive  the  account  of  a  deplorable  reverse 
of  our  arms  at  Manassas.  For  a  week  or  two  that  event 
will  elate  the  friends  of  the  insurgents  in  Europe,  as  it 
confounded  and  bewildered  the  friends  of  the  Union  here 
for  two  or  three  days.  The  shock,  however,  has  passed 
away,  producing  no  other  results  than  a  resolution  stronger 
and  deeper  than  ever,  to  maintain  the  Union,  and  a  prompt 
and  effective  augmentation  of  the  forces  for  that  end. 
The  heart  of  the  country  is  sound.  Its  temper  is  now  more 
favourable  to  the  counsels  of  deliberation  and  wisdom. 
The  lesson  that  war  cannot  be  waged  successfully  without 
wisdom  as  well  as  patriotism  has  been  received  at  a 
severe  cost,  but  perhaps  it  was  necessary." 

The  French  Princes.  The  Emperor  of  the  French 
was  a  student,  as  well  as  a  sovereign.  And  he  had  con- 
vinced himself  that  the  best  and  most  enduring  form  of 
government  was  the  imperial  one.  The  lives  of  Cassar 
and  of  Napoleon  were  the  models  that  he  set  up  for  his 
own  imitation.  There  were  other  opinions  in  France,  but 
it  was  realized  very  early  in  our  war  that  he  regarded 
the  Republic,  for  which  we  were  battling,  as  doomed  to 
defeat.  Unfriendly  action  by  him  might  therefore  be 
looked  for,  and  intervention,  if  a  pretext  for  it  could  be 
found. 


1 82  The  French  Princes 

Among  those  who  dissented  from  this  opinion,  it  was 
rumoured  that  his  cousin  Prince  Napoleon  Jerome  was 
an  outspoken  friend  of  the  Federal  Union.  How  far  his 
views  would  influence  the  action  of  the  Government  was, 
of  course,  unknown. 

In  August,  1861,  it  was  announced  that  Prince  Napo- 
leon was  coming  to  visit  the  United  States.  Arrived  off  the 
Battery,  in  his  steam  yacht  the  Catinat,  accompanied  by 
the  Princess  Clotilde,  his  wife,  and  his  suite,  he  spent  a 
day  or  two  in  New  York  harbour.  I  was  sent  to  wel- 
come him  and  invite  him,  on  behalf  of  the  President  and 
Secretary  of  State,  to  visit  Washington. 

He  met  me  at  the  gangway,  gave  me  a  courteous  greet- 
ing, and,  in  excellent  English,  said  it  would  give  him  great 
pleasure  to  accept  the  invitation.  Then,  taking  me  aft, 
he  presented  me  to  the  Princess,  who  was  in  the  cabin. 

Reaching  Washington  a  few  days  later,  my  father  re- 
ceived him,  and  presented  him  to  the  President.  A  state 
dinner  was  given  in  his  honour.  Another  at  the  French 
Legation  was  followed  by  one  at  the  Secretary  of  State's 
residence,  and  that  by  an  evening  reception  at  which 
the  diplomatic  corps,  cabinet  officers,  and  military  com- 
manders were  present.  As  he  stood  on  the  hearth  rug, 
wearing  a  white  vest  with  red  ribbon  and  decorations, 
and  with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  features,  hair, 
and  attitude  showed  a  startling  resemblance  to  the  pic- 
tures of  the  first  Napoleon, — a  resemblance  that  he  was 
said  to  cultivate,  although  he  was  a  trifle  taller  than  his 
uncle. 

At  the  President's  dinner,  the  marine  band  was  sta- 
tioned in  the  vestibule.  The  bandmaster  was  desirous 
of  giving  airs  appropriately  French,  but  being  a  German 
was  not  versed  in  Parisian  politics.  So,  instead  of  the 
imperial  air  Partant  pour  la  Syrie,  he  struck  up,  in  one 
of  the  solemn  pauses  incident  to  every  state  dinner,  the 


The  French  Princes  183 

Marseillaise.  As  that  revolutionary  lyric  was  tabooed 
in  Paris  during  the  Empire,  a  smile  appeared  on  the  faces 
of  the  guests,  as  they  looked  toward  the  Prince.  He  took 
it  very  good  humouredly,  saying:  "Mais,  oui,  je  suis 
Republicain — en  Amerique." 

Republican  he  certainly  was,  as  regarded  the  war.  His 
belief  in  the  Union,  and  his  cheerful  talk  of  its  coming 
triumph,  were  all  in  strong  contrast  to  the  undertone  of 
despondency  in  the  conversation  of  those  around  him. 
He  was  much  interested  in  army  matters,  and  drove  out 
with  my  father  to  visit  several  of  the  camps,  and  study  the 
character  of  this  novel  organization  of  citizen  soldiers. 

The  French  Minister,  M.  Mercier,  who  still  kept  up 
his  acquaintances  with  leading  Confederates,  now  came 
to  know  whether  there  would  be  any  objection  to  allowing 
the  Prince  to  pass  "through  the  lines,"  in  response  to  an 
invitation  which  the  Confederate  generals  had  sent  him. 
There  was  none,  and  so,  accompanied  by  the  French 
Minister,  he  visited  the  Confederate  headquarters,  both 
armies  allowing  him  to  pass  through  their  lines. 

When  he  returned  he  said  he  had  been  treated  with 
courtesy  and  hospitality.  He  of  course  refrained  from 
speaking  of  what  he  had  seen  or  heard.  But  it  was  mani- 
fest from  his  general  conversation  that  his  opinions  on 
the  outcome  of  the  war  had  undergone  no  change. 

In  another  month,  three  princes  of  the  royal  house  of 
Orleans  arrived  in  Washington,  the  Prince  de  Joinville, 
son  of  King  Louis  Philippe,  and  his  two  nephews,  the 
Comte  de  Paris  and  the  Due  de  Chartres.  The  Comte  de 
Paris  was  the  lineal  heir  of  the  throne  of  France.  Sharing 
in  the  traditional  friendship  of  their  house,  they  had 
come  to  proffer  their  services,  and  peril  their  lives  for  the 
Union. 

Of  course  they  were  welcomed  by  my  father,  who  ar- 
ranged the  preliminaries  for  the  entrance  of  the  young 


1 84  The  French  Princes 

princes  into  the  army.  They  were  assigned  to  positions 
on  General  McClellan's  staff. 

How  well  and  faithfully  their  duties  were  performed 
has  been  told  by  General  McClellan,  who  wrote  that : 

"Far  from  evincing  any  desire  to  avoid  irksome,  fa- 
tiguing, or  dangerous  duty  they  always  sought  it,  and 
were  never  so  happy  as  when  some  such  work  devolved 
upon  them,  and  never  failed  to  display  the  high  qualities 
of  a  race  of  soldiers." 

While  the  army  remained  at  Washington,  they  occu- 
pied a  house  on  I  Street.  They  were  frequent  visitors  at 
our  house.  One  day  at  lunch,  my  father  remarked:  "I 
should  think  your  names  and  titles  might  occasion  some 
embarrassment .  WTiat  do  your  brother  officers  call  you  ? ' ' 

"Oh!"  said  the  Due  de  Chartres,  laughing,  "that  is  all 
arranged.  My  brother  is  Captain  Paris,  and  I  am  Cap- 
tain Charters,  and  we  are  excellent  friends  with  all  our 
comrades." 

Still  another  member  of  the  family  came  over  to  enter 
the  service.  This  was  the  Prince  de  Joinville's  young  son, 
the  Due  de  Penthievre.  He  was  placed  at  the  Naval 
School,  which,  during  the  war,  was  moved  to  Newport. 
He  subsequently  entered  the  navy,  serving  with  credit 
and  gaining  promotion. 

As  the  French  Legation  represented  the  imperial  govern- 
ment, the  members  of  the  exiled  royal  family  never  en- 
tered it,  and  had  no  intercourse  with  its  officials.  At  the 
Brazilian  Legation,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were  honoured 
and  welcomed  guests,  the .  Prince  de  Joinville  having 
married  a  sister  of  the  reigning  Emperor  of  Brazil. 

Invited  on  one  occasion  to  the  Brazilian  Legation  I 
found  the  dinner  was  a  family  celebration  in  honour  of 
"Peter."  Peter  had  come  over  on  a  cruise  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  had  been  intrusted  with  the  navigation  of 
a  ship.  He  was  the  "navigating  officer." 


Mount  Vernon  in  War  Time  185 

"So,"  I  said,  "I  perceive  human  ambition  goes  in 
circles.  When  you  are  once  a  royal  prince,  the  next  grade 
that  you  can  aspire  to  is  to  be  a  sailing  master." 

"Prince,"  asked  my  father  of  the  Prince  de  Joinville, 
one  day  at  lunch,  "how  long  do  you  think  this  Empire 
will  last  in  France?" 

The  Prince  smiled,  and,  taking  up  his  plate  and  turning 
it  round,  he  said:  "Governments  in  France  come  round, 
so,  in  succession.  I  should  give  the  Emperor  ten  or  twelve 
years  at  the  most." 

The  Empire  fell  in  1871. 

Mount  Vernon  in  War  Time.  There  used  to  be  a  good 
old  custom  on  the  Potomac  River  the  observance  of  which 
was  always  impressive.  When  a  naval  vessel  or  a  passen- 
ger steamer  came  abreast  of  Mount  Vernon,  the  flag  was 
lowered  in  salute,  the  engine  stopped,  and  the  bell  tolled 
as  the  steamer  drifted  slowly  past  the  home  and  grave  of 
George  Washington.  Even  during  the  hurry  and  strife 
of  the  Civil  War,  the  custom  was  not  entirely  forgotten. 

While  the  Civil  War  was  raging,  the  banks  of  the  Poto- 
mac were  the  scenes  of  many  bloody  conflicts.  Armed 
vessels  patrolled  the  river.  Fortifications  were  erected 
on  its  heights.  Armies  encamped  along  its  shores.  The 
sound  of  cannon  or  musketry  daily  echoed  over  its  waters. 
Homes  and  fields  were  abandoned  by  their  owners,  for 
none  felt  safe  against  the  raids  of  the  scouting  or  foraging 
parties  of  the  Union  or  Confederate  troops. 

But  there  was  one  exception.  Both  sides  respected 
Mount  Vernon.  Neither  army  sought  to  occupy  or  for- 
tify it.  No  foraging  or  plundering  took  place  within  its 
precincts.  The  old  furniture  stood  peacefully  in  the  old 
rooms.  The  old  trees  stood  unharmed  in  the  old  groves. 
It  was  the  one  bit  of  neutral  ground  in  that  long  and 
bloody  war.  Reverence  for  Washington's  home  and 


1 86  The  Trent  Case 

memory  hardly  needed  to  be  inculcated  by  the  command- 
ers, for  it  was  implanted  in  the  heart  of  every  soldier, 
whether  he  was  a  Northern  man  or  a  Southern  one. 

There  was  a  story  current  in  those  days — I  do  not  know 
how  far  it  was  true — that  the  old  mansion  was  left  in 
charge  of  two  persons,  a  man  and  his  sister.  He  was  a 
Union  man.  She  was  a  sympathizer  with  the  Confeder- 
acy. When  the  visitors  approached  from  the  river  side, 
they  were  presumably  from  the  Union  gunboats,  and  he 
went  out  to  meet  them.  When  they  approached  from 
the  landward  side,  they  were  presumably  from  the  Con- 
federate camps,  and  she  went  out  to  greet  them.  But  it 
made  little  difference.  Whichever  they  were,  they  all 
came  as  friends,  and  were  received  as  such. 

When  Prince  Jerome  Napoleon,  with  his  suite,  visited 
Washington  during  the  war,  he  inquired  about  Mount 
Vernon.  " Is  it  in  your  hands,  or  held  by  the  enemy?" 

"Neither,  Prince,"  was  the  reply.  "It  is  sacred,  and 
treated  as  neutral  ground." 

One  of  the  French  visitors  remarked:  "A  present  vous 
avez  la  guerre,  mais  pour  lui,  c'est  toujours  la  paix." 

It  was  an  augury  of  the  coming  time  when  we  should 
find  that  there  were  some  things  we  could  not  divide. 
We  had  found  we  could  not  divide  the  glory  of  George 
Washington.  In  due  time  we  were  to  find  that  we  could 
not  divide  the  Union  he  had  founded,  nor  the  Flag  he  had 
unfurled  over  it. 

1861-1862. 

The  Trent  Case.  With  the  intelligence  of  military 
success  came  another  piece  of  news,  which  was  hailed 
with  similar  public  rejoicing.  This  was  the  taking  of 
Mason  and  Slidell  from  the  British  steamer  Trent,  and 
their  incarceration  at  Fort  Warren  in  Boston  harbour. 
The  Northern  people  applauded  the  act.  Eminent  pub- 


The  Trent  Case  187 

Heists  wrote  in  justification  of  it.  Official  approval  was 
warmly  expressed  at  the  Navy  Department,  and  in  Con- 
gress. The  idea  that  they  might  be  reclaimed  was 
hardly  mentioned.  Any  thought  of  their  release  was 
scouted. 

But  a  few  days  more,  and  the  foreign  mails  brought  the 
news  of  the  outburst  of  anger  in  England  over  the  Trent 
affair,  and  the  preparations  for  war  with  America.  The 
intelligence  that  it  was  regarded  as  not  only  an  insult, 
but  an  intentional  one,  was  received  with  surprise.  The 
popular  exultation  had  been  over  the  discomfiture  and 
capture  of  the  rebel  envoys.  The  incidental  question 
as  to  what  Great  Britain  would  think  of  it  had  excited 
little  attention. 

Doubts  began  to  be  felt,  and  to  find  expression  in  the 
press,  as  to  what  might  be  the  outcome.  A  fall  in  stocks, 
and  a  sudden  rise  of  the  premium  on  gold,  reflected  the 
popular  apprehensions. 

But  as  yet  no  one  was  prepared  to  relinquish  the  prison- 
ers. Frequent  inquiries  were  made  at  the  State  Depart- 
ment about  the  line  of  action  to  be  adopted,  but  my  father 
declined  to  talk  of  the  case  until  the  expected  communi- 
cation from  the  British  Government  should  be  received. 
Lord  Lyons  was  equally  reticent,  and  the  newspapers 
contented  themselves  with  speculations  on  the  probabili- 
ties of  war,  and  descriptions  of  the  captives'  life  at  Fort 
Warren,  usually  winding  up  by  asserting,  "Of  course 
they  can  never  be  given  up.  The  country  would  never 
forgive  any  man  who  should  propose  such  a  surrender." 

On  the  2Oth  of  December  Lord  Lyons  came  to  the  De- 
partment of  State.  He  had  received  from  the  Foreign 
Office  the  demand  of  the  British  Government  for  the 
liberation  of  Mason  and  Slidell.  Before  presenting  it, 
he  would  leave  with  the  Secretary  of  State  a  copy  for 
his  informal  examination  and  perusal.  This  was  quietly 


i88  The  Trent  Case 

done,  and  the  Secretary  of  State  commenced  the  draft 
of  his  answer  before  the  arrival  of  the  dispatch  was  gen- 
erally known  in  Washington.  Closing  his  door  against 
all  visitors,  he  devoted  one  entire  day  to  the  preparation 
of  the  reply. 

It  was  long  and  carefully  considered.  It  recited  not 
orly  the  story  of  the  case,  but  made  an  elaborate  analysis 
and  review  of  the  principles  of  international  law  which 
seemed  to  bear  upon  it.  Arriving  at  length  at  a  point 
which  was  the  gist  of  the  whole  controversy,  he  said:  "I 
have  not  been  unaware  that  in  examining  this  question, 
I  have  fallen  into  an  argument  for  what  seems  to  be  the 
British  side  of  it,  against  my  own  country.  But  I  am 
relieved  from  all  embarrassment  on  that  subject.  I  had 
hardly  fallen  into  this  line  of  argument  when  I  discovered 
that  I  was  really  defending  and  maintaining  not  an  exclu- 
sively British  interest,  but  an  old,  honoured,  and  cherished 
American  cause,  resting  not  upon  British  authorities,  but 
upon  principles  that  constitute  a  larger  portion  of  the 
distinctive  policy  of  the  United  States.  These  principles 
were  laid  down  for  us  in  1804,  by  James  Madison,  when 
Secretary  of  State  in  the  Administration  of  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son, in  instructions  given  to  James  Monroe,  our  Minister 
to  England.  The  ground  he  assumed  then  was  the  same 
I  now  occupy,  and  the  arguments  by  which  he  sustained 
himself  upon  it  have  been  an  inspiration  to  me  in  preparing 
this  reply." 

He  remarked  therefore:  "If  I  decide  this  case  in  favour 
of  my  own  Government,  I  must  disavow  its  most  cher- 
ished principles,  and  reverse  and  for  ever  abandon  its 
essential  policy.  The  country  cannot  afford  the  sacrifice. 
If  I  maintain  those  principles,  and  adhere  to  that  policy, 
I  must  surrender  the  case  itself.  It  will  be  seen,  therefore, 
that  the  Government  could  not  deny  the  justice  of  the 
claim  presented  to  us,  upon  its  merits.  We  are  asked  to 


The  Trent  Case  189 

do  to  the  British  nation  just  what  we  have  always  insisted 
that  all  nations  ought  to  do  to  us." 

Adverting  then  to  the  effect  of  this  decision  upon  the 
future  relations  of  the  two  countries,  he  said:  "Cases 
might  be  found  in  history  where  Great  Britain  refused 
to  yield  to  other  nations,  and  even  to  ourselves,  claims 
like  that  which  is  now  before  us.  She  could  in  no  other 
way  so  effectually  disavow  any  such  injury  as  we  think 
she  does  by  assuming  now,  as  her  own,  the  ground  upon 
which  we  then  stood." 

He  concluded  with  an  expression  of  satisfaction  that 
"by  the  adjustment  of  the  present  case,  upon  principles 
confessedly  American,  and  yet,  as  we  trust,  mutually 
satisfactory  to  both  the  nations  concerned,  a  question  is 
finally  and  rightly  settled  between  them,  which  for  more 
than  half  a  century  alienated  the  two  countries  from  each 
other." 

The  Cabinet  meeting  which  considered  the  question 
was  an  anxious  and  earnest  one.  The  Secretary  of  State 
stated  the  case,  and  gave  the  substance  of  his  views  in 
regard  to  it.  Other  members,  not  having  studied  the 
subject,  naturally  shared  in  the  popular  feeling.  "At 
least,"  as  one  said,  "we  need  not  decide  at  once.  Let  us 
settle  it  that  we  won't  surrender  them  today.  We  can 
meet  again,  and  consider  about  it  tomorrow."  So  the 
matter  went  over. 

After  the  other  gentlemen  had  retired,  the  President 
said:  "Governor  Seward,  you  will  go  on,  of  course,  pre- 
paring your  answer,  which,  as  I  understand,  will  state  the 
reasons  why  they  ought  to  be  given  up.  Now  I  have  a 
mind  to  try  my  hand  at  stating  the  reasons  why  they  ought 
not  to  be  given  up.  We  will  compare  the  points  on  each 
side." 

My  father  heartily  assented.  The  mutual  confidence 
between  the  two  had  now  grown  so  great,  that  each  felt 


190  The  Trent  Case 

the  other  would  ask  approval  of  nothing  that  was  not 
sound. 

On  the  next  day  the  Cabinet  reassembled.  The  Secre- 
tary of  State  again  read  his  reply.  There  were  some  expres- 
sions of  regret  that  the  step  was  necessary,  but  it  was 
adopted  without  a  dissenting  voice.  The  council  broke 
up  reassured  on  the  point  that  war  with  England  was 
averted,  but  not  without  misgivings  as  to  the  temper  in 
which  the  people  would  receive  the  decision.  The  Presi- 
dent expressed  his  approval. 

When  the  others  were  gone,  my  father  alluded  to  their 
conversation  of  the  day  before.  "  You  thought  you  might 
frame  an  argument  for  the  other  side?"  Mr.  Lincoln 
smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "I  found  I  could  not  make 
an  argument  that  would  satisfy  my  own  mind,"  he  said, 
"and  that  proved  to  me  your  ground  was  the  right  one." 

This  was  characteristic  of  Lincoln.  Presidents  and  kings 
are  not  apt  to  see  flaws  in  their  own  arguments.  But 
fortunately  for  the  Union,  it  had  a  President  at  this  time 
who  combined  a  logical  intellect  with  an  unselfish  heart. 

On  the  evening  of  Friday,  there  were  several  guests  at 
dinner  at  our  house,  among  them  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Critten- 
den,  and  Anthony  Trollope,  the  novelist.  Afterward  came 
friends  who,  hearing  rumours  of  a  decision  in  the  Trent 
matter,  desired  to  have  them  verified,  and  to  thank  the 
Secretary  for  extricating  the  country  from  its  dilemma. 
Coupled  with  their  compliments,  however,  were  many 
regrets,  that  the  act  must  inevitably  doom  him  to  un- 
popularity, since  the  people  would  resent  the  loss  of  their 
prisoners,  and  would  deem  themselves  humiliated  by  their 
surrender.  "It  was  too  bad  that  he  must  sacrifice 
himself." 

But  now  came  the  evidence  of  the  sterling  good  sense 
of  the  American  people.  When  the  decision  was  an- 
nounced in  the  papers,  its  first  visible  effects  were  the  relief 


The  Trent  Case  191 

manifested  by  all  loyal  men,  and  the  chagrin  which  the 
disloyal  could  not  conceal.  Public  confidence  was  re- 
stored and  renewed.  Men  meeting  each  other  in  the  street 
shook  hands  over  it,  and  said :  "Now  we  shall  pull  through." 

Down  dropped  the  premium  on  gold.  Up  went  the 
prices  of  United  States  stocks.  Recruiting  officers  showed 
that  volunteering  was  briskly  renewed.  The  expected 
storm  of  public  indignation  did  not  come.  Nobody 
seemed  to  feel  humiliated.  Nobody  condemned  the  act 
but  the  sympathizers  with  secession,  and  they  shook  their 
heads  over  "Seward's  infernal  cunning." 

A  day  or  two  later,  when  the  public  had  time  to  read 
the  document,  and  the  newspapers  had  opportunity  for 
comment,  it  was  seen  that  in  returning  Mason  and  Slidell 
the  United  States  had  established  beyond  peradventure 
the  doctrine  for  which  the  War  of  1812  was  fought,  and 
had  committed  England  to  it  also.  Then  the  sense  of 
relief  gave  place  to  exultation.  Thanks  and  congratula- 
tions began  to  pour  in  upon  the  Secretary  of  State  by  every 
mail.  Apparently,  instead  of  working  his  ruin,  it  was 
likely  to  prove  one  of  the  most  popular  acts  of  his  life. 

The  morning  after  the  Secretary's  reply  had  been  for- 
mally handed  to  Lord  Lyons,  and  communicated  by  him 
to  his  Government,  Captain  Fox,  the  Assistant  Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  came  for  a  confidential  call.  He  warmly 
commended  the  decision  and  said :  "  Of  course  it  is  wise  and 
right.  But  now,  as  to  the  actual  delivery  of  the  prisoners. 
That  will  be  a  somewhat  embarrassing  duty  for  any 
navy  officer  to  perform.  No  one  would  like  to  be  chosen 
for  it,  and  I  hardly  know  what  ship  or  commander  to 
detail  for  the  service." 

"Of  course,"  my  father  said,  "it  is  a  duty  that  natu- 
rally belongs  to  the  State  Department,  which  will  take 
charge  of  it.  Lord  Lyons  agrees  with  me  that  it  should 
be  done  unostentatiously.  To  avoid  any  public  demon- 


192  The  Trent  Case 

stration  at  Boston  or  elsewhere  he  will  send  her  Majesty's 
frigate  Rinaldo  to  any  point  that  we  may  designate  to 
receive  the  prisoners." 

Captain  Fox  replied  that  he  thought  Provincetown,  on 
the  tip  end  of  Cape  Cod,  would  be  a  safe  and  quiet  place. 

So  it  was  settled  that  the  British  frigate  should  proceed 
to  Provincetown. 

I  was  called  into  the  consultation,  and  undertook  to 
find  a  trustworthy  officer  of  the  State  Department,  who 
would  perform  the  mission  with  celerity,  discretion,  and 
secrecy. 

Mr.  E.  D.  Webster,  who  had  before  discharged  confi- 
dential missions  for  the  Secretary,  was  selected.  He  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  Boston,  hired  a  tug,  and  went  to  Fort 
Warren,  without  attracting  any  public  attention. 

Captain  Martin  Burke,  the  commandant  of  the  fort, 
was  glad  to  be  relieved  of  his  prisoners,  and  helped  to 
put  them  on  board  the  tug. 

Mason  apparently  was  unfeignedly  glad  to  get  out  of 
confinement,  but  Slidell,  who  was  more  keen-witted  and 
sagacious,  saw  that  their  release  would  end  the  possibility 
of  the  hoped-for  clash  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States,  and  would  be  a  blow  to  the  Confederacy. 
He,  at  first,  flatly  refused  to  be  taken  from  Fort  Warren, 
until  a  British  ship  should  come  there  for  him.  Finding 
this  ground  untenable,  and  being  warned  that  force,  if 
necessary,  would  be  used,  he  consented  at  last  to  go  on 
board  the  tug. 

Webster  found  the  trip  across  Massachusetts  Bay 
rather  rough  and  stormy,  but  uneventful,  and  both  the 
prisoners  decidedly  reticent.  They  found  the  Rinaldo 
at  anchor  awaiting  them,  and  her  captain  ready  to  re- 
ceive his  unusual  passengers  with  every  respect  and 
courtesy. 

The  frigate  weighed  anchor  at  once,  and  proceeded  to 


A  Series  of  Victories  193 

England.  So  the  interrupted  journey  begun  on  the  Trent 
was  finally  completed  on  the  Rinaldo.  But  it  was  a 
question  whether  the  prisoners  who  had  so  warmly  re- 
sisted capture  by  Captain  Wilkes  were  not  equally 
chagrined  at  their  release  from  the  custody  of  Captain 
Martin  Burke. 

Webster  was  back  in  Washington  with  his  report  and 
engaged  in  his  usual  duties  before  the  public  had  any 
wind  of  his  errand  to  Cape  Cod. 

February,  1862. 

A  Series  of  Victories.  Several  months  of  the  war  had 
now  passed.  Begun  without  any  military  preparation, 
at  least  as  far  as  the  North  was  concerned,  it  was  not 
strange  that  it  opened  with  disasters.  The  work  of  en- 
listing, equipping,  and  training  the  soldiers  all  had  to  be 
done  while  hostilities  were  in  active  progress.  But  this 
period  had  now  passed.  The  work  had  been  accomplished 
with  spirit  and  energy,  and  we  had  at  last  an  army,  with 
commanders  capable  of  effective  action. 

In  his  "Circular  dispatch  to  ministers  abroad "  my  father 
was  now  able  to  say: 

"Cloudless  skies  with  drying  winter  winds  have  at  last 
succeeded  the  storm  which  so  long  held  our  fleets  in  em- 
bargo, and  our  land  forces  in  their  camps.  The  Burnside 
expedition  has  escaped  its  perils  and  is  now  in  activity 
on  the  coast  of  North  Carolina.  The  victory  of  General 
Thomas  at  Mill  Spring  in  Kentucky  has  been  quickly 
followed  by  the  capture  of  Fort  Henry  on  the  Tennessee 
River,  and  the  interruption  of  the  railroad,  by  which  the 
insurgents  have  kept  up  their  communication  between 
Bowling  Green  and  Columbus.  .  . 

"The  success  of  the  Union  army  in  the  West  having 
brought  the  whole  of  Missouri  and  a  large  part  of  Ten- 
nessee under  the  authority  of  the  United  States,  and  having 
13 


194        A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies 

already  a  passage  opened  for  us  into  Alabama,  Mississippi, 
and  Arkansas,  it  has  been  determined  today  to  permit 
the  restoration  of  trade  upon  our  inland  ways  and  waters, 
under  certain  limitations  and  restrictions. 

"You  will  have  noticed  our  successful  advance  down  the 
Mississippi  and  along  its  banks.  Next  week  we  shall 
ascertain  the  strength  of  the  obstructions  at  Memphis. 
.  .  .  General  Butler,  with  an  adequate  land  force,  and 
Captains  Farragut  and  Porter  with  a  fleet,  are  already  in 
motion  to  seize  and  hold  New  Orleans." 

A  month  later  he  continued:  "The  events  of  the  week 
have  been  striking  and  significant,  the  capture  of  New- 
bern  by  Burnside,  with  the  consequent  evacuation  of 
Beaufort  and  Fort  Macon  by  the  insurgents  and  the  de- 
struction by  themselves  of  their  own  steamer  Nashville — 
the  rout  of  the  insurgents  on  their  retreat  from  Winchester 
to  Strasburg  by  General  Shields — the  victory  of  General 
Pope  at  New  Madrid  and  the  bombardment  of  Island  No. 
10  by  Commodore  Foote." 

A  few  weeks  later,  he  continued:  "The  victories  of 
Fort  Henry,  Fort  Donelson,  the  occupation  of  Bowling 
Green,  Nashville,  Murfreesboro,  and  Columbus,  the  cap- 
ture of  the  fortified  position  of  Island  No.  10  in  the  Missis- 
sippi, with  one  hundred  heavy  guns,  thirty  pieces  of  field 
artillery,  and  six  thousand  prisoners,  are  the  events  of 
the  week.  Today  the  country  is  assuming  that  the  fate 
of  this  unnatural  war  is  determined  by  the  great  event  of 
the  capture  of  New  Orleans,  which  was  effected  by  a  naval 
expedition  on  the  24th." 

May,  1862. 

A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies.  The  tide  of  success 
seems  now  to  be  flowing  in  our  direction.  General  Mc- 
Clellan  is  marching  up  the  Peninsula  toward  Richmond, 
and  General  McDowell  is  opening  his  way  downward  from 


A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies         195 

Fredericksburg.  Our  fleets  are  patrolling  the  Potomac, 
controlling  the  entrances  of  the  Rappahannock,  the  York, 
the  James,  and  the  Elizabeth  rivers,  and  mustering  in 
force  at  Hampton  Roads. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Navy  deems  this  a  favourable 
time  for  an  inspection  of  the  fleets,  and  observation  of  the 
progress  of  the  joint  operations  of  army  and  navy.  He 
has  invited  his  colleagues,  the  Secretary  of  State  and 
the  Attorney-General,  to  accompany  him.  Some  of  the 
members  of  their  families  and  of  the  official  staff  of  their 
Departments  will  be  of  the  party. 

Monday. 

The  river  steamboat  City  of  Baltimore,  which  has  been 
fitted  up  for  naval  patrol  and  blockade  duty,  has  been 
selected  as  the  one  for  this  special  cruise.  Captain  Dahl- 
gren  will  be  in  command.  She  carries,  for  protection 
against  attack,  two  field  howitzers,  with  muskets  and 
cutlasses  for  the  crew. 

The  voyage  should  be  an  instructive  one  as  a  sort  of 
reconnoissance,  enabling  us  to  more  fully  comprehend 
the  relative  position  and  strength  of  our  own  forces  and 
those  of  the  Confederates. 

Tuesday. 

The  Navy  Department,  of  course,  will  be  left  in  charge 
of  Captain  Fox,  during  the  absence  of  Secretary  Welles. 
Mr.  Hunter  will  take  charge  of  the  Department  of  State. 

We  go  on  board  this  afternoon.  Our  party  consists 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Welles  and  niece,  Mr.  Attorney-General 
Bates,  Mr.  Faxon,  Chief  Clerk  of  the  Navy  Department, 
and  his  son,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Whelan,  of  the  Navy  De- 
partment, and  their  son,  Mrs.  Goldsborough  and  Miss 
Goldsborough,  wife  and  daughter  of  the  Commodore,  and 


196         A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies 

Mr.  Goldsborough,  the  Commodore's  brother, — all  naval 
people  except  Mr.  Bates  and  ourselves. 

We  have  two  pilots  and  thirteen  sailors,  two  howitzers 
and  two  dozen  muskets.  We  have  as  stewards  Wormley 
and  his  cook  and  waiters,  and  we  carry  coal  and  provisions 
for  a  week. 

Wednesday  morning. 

Leaving  the  Navy  Yard  yesterday  afternoon,  we  came 
down  the  Potomac,  passing  the  evening  in  looking  at 
Fort  Washington,  Alexandria,  Mount  Vernon,  White 
House  Point,  Shipping  Point,  Budd's  Point,  and  Martha's 
Point,  famous  for  their  Confederate  batteries — all  now 
deserted.  We  slept  peacefully  through  the  voyage  during 
the  night  down  the  lower  Potomac.  This  morning  we  woke 
up  in  the  York  River,  between  the  earthworks  of  Yorktown 
on  one  side  and  Gloucester  on  the  other. 

Wednesday  night. 

This  day  has  been  spent  on  the  York  River  and  the 
Pamunkey.  We  passed  on  up  the  York  River,  full  of 
transport  and  provision  ships,  and  saw  the  white  flags 
waving  from  the  houses  on  either  shore. 

We  reached  West  Point  at  noon,  and  found  there  the 
gunboats  and  Franklin's  battleground.  Then  we  passed 
on,  up  the  Pamunkey,  a  stream  as  large  as  the  Hudson 
at  Troy,  and  so  winding  that  you  go  three  miles  to  advance 
one.  We  saw  deserted  houses,  no  whites,  but  many 
negroes,  who  bowed  and  grinned  obsequiously  when  they 
saw  the  national  flag.  At  three  o'clock  we  reached  Cum- 
berland. There  we  found  a  clearing  in  the  woods  con- 
taining two  houses,  suddenly  transformed  into  a  great 
city  of  a  hundred  thousand  people  by  the  advent  of  Mc- 
Clellan's  army  and  its  supporting  fleet. 

The  General  and  his  staff,  with  the  French  princes, 


A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies         197 

Major  Palmer,  and  several  other  Washington  acquaint- 
ances, came  on  board,  and  then  took  us  ashore,  up  and 
down  the  hills,  through  the  camps,  the  Secretaries  review- 
ing ten  or  twelve  thousand  of  Porter's  and  Franklin's  men. 
At  night,  the  long  lines  of  lights  on  the  shore,  the  ship- 
ping and  bustle  in  the  river,  made  it  almost  impossible 
to  believe  we  were  not  in  the  harbour  of  Philadelphia  or 
New  York. 

Thursday. 

We  passed  safely  down  again  through  the  sunken  ships 
with  which  the  Secessionists  supposed  they  had  obstructed 
the  river,  and  woke  up  again  this  morning  off  Yorktown. 

Proceeding  on  our  way  again  in  a  drizzling  rain,  we 
reached  Fortress  Monroe  about  noon.  Here  we  found 
spread  out  before  us  a  great  fleet  at  anchor  in  the  Roads. 

Thursday  evening. 

On  arriving,  we  ran  alongside  the  flagship  Minnesota, 
and  took  Commodore  Goldsborough  and  his  lieutenant, 
and  Mr.  Tucker,  Assistant  Secretary  of  War,  on  board. 

Then  we  steamed  on,  passing  the  Vanderbilt,  the  Arago, 
the  Ericsson,  the  gunboats  and  the  transports  which 
crowded  the  Roads,  and  so  past  Sewall's  Point  and 
Craney  Island,  and  the  sunken  Merrimac,  up  the  Elizabeth 
River  to  Norfolk. 

Wrecks  of  vessels  destroyed  by  the  Secessionists  lay 
in  the  channel.  The  hulk  of  the  old  frigate  United  States 
lay  moored,  ready  to  be  sunk,  but  not  sunk,  because  they 
left  it  in  too  much  haste. 

We  dined,  and  then,  as  the  rain  had  stopped,  went  to 
the  wharf,  and  sent  for  General  Viele,  the  Military  Gover- 
nor, one  of  my  old  schoolmates  in  Albany.  He  and  his 
staff  came  on  board,  and  after  a  little,  a  crowd  gathered 
on  the  wharf,  sullen  and  sour  and  curious. 


198        A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies 

The  General  pointed  out  one  or  two  Union  men,  who 
had  stood  firm  through  the  long  night  of  secession,  and 
they  were  called  up  on  board  to  be  congratulated.  One 
burst  into  tears  on  finding  himself  once  more  among 
loyal  men,  under  the  old  flag,  and  all  were  almost  de- 
mented with  joy. 

We  went  ashore  and  walked  up  and  down  the  streets : 
all  the  shops  shut  up,  all  the  doors  and  windows  of  private 
houses  closed,  all  the  population  idle,  a  sentry  at  each 
corner,  a  patrol  in  each  street,  no  woman  visible,  and  no 
man,  except  now  and  then  some  exultant  Unionist,  ven- 
turing to  say  a  word. 

" Do  you  see  me,"  said  one,  taking  off  his  hat.  "They 
beat  me  and  robbed  me,  and  drove  me  from  town,  six 
months  ago,  because  I  wouldn't  hurrah  for  their  cursed 
flag.  I've  just  come  back  home  today.  They  hate  to 
see  me  in  their  streets  as  much  as  they  hate  to  see  you. 
But  the  sight  of  the  old  flag  and  the  sound  of  Hail  Columbia 
here  pays  me  for  all  I've  suffered." 

Returning  on  board,  we  steamed  up  to  the  frigate  Sus- 
quehanna  and  cast  anchor  for  the  night.  She  manned  her 
yards  and  fired  a  salute  in  compliment  to  the  Secretaries, 
while  Norfolk  sank  into  darkness  like  a  city  of  the  dead, 
in  strong  contrast  with  the  magic  town  sprung  from 
nought  where  we  passed  last  night. 

Friday. 

This  morning  we  steamed  on  up  the  river  to  the  navy 
yard.  Portsmouth,  inhabited  mostly  by  working  people, 
is  more  loyal  than  Norfolk,  and  such  as  could  get  a  Union 
flag  hung  it  out  from  their  trees  or  chimneys.  The  Sus- 
quehanna's  band  was  on  board,  and,  not  desiring  to 
parade  our  triumph  or  gall  the  people's  feelings,  they  were 
told  to  play  only  airs  without  significance.  But  the 
people  who  ran  along  the  shore  and  cheered,  called  out: 


A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies         199 

"Oh!  play  the  Star  Spangled  Banner!  Do  let  us  hear 
the  Star  Spangled  Banner  once  more." 

And  when  they  heard  it,  they  shouted  and  cried,  and 
waved  their  hats,  handkerchiefs,  and  anything  they  could 
get;  and  seemed  to  be  willing  to  follow  for  any  distance, 
to  hear  it  still.  The  coloured  folks  were  especially  in 
their  glory — such  an  amount  of  coloured  chuckling  and 
laughing  had  not  transpired  in  Portsmouth  for  a  year 
at  least. 

We  landed  at  what  was  the  navy  yard,  and  is  now  a 
mass  of  smoking  ruins.  Long  rows  of  crumbling  walls, 
and  roofless,  empty,  charred  brick  buildings,  piles  of  still 
smoking  ashes,  docks  and  wharves  torn  up  by  gunpowder, 
wrecks  of  vessels  burned  to  the  water's  edge,  cover  many 
acres. 

A  Massachusetts  regiment  was  encamped  among  the 
ruins,  and  one  man,  with  Yankee  readiness,  had  contrived 
to  establish  a  blacksmith  shop  out  of  the  fragments,  and 
was  driving  a  successful  business,  mending  guns  and  shoe- 
ing horses.  A  huge  gun,  burst  in  the  middle,  was  recog- 
nized as  one  which  a  ball  from  the  Cumberland  destroyed 
on  board  the  Merrimac,  and  Captain  Dahlgren  found  it 
one  of  his  own  make.  The  soldier  who  stood  guard  over 
it  asked  me  if  I  remembered,  about  eighteen  months  ago, 
reading  in  the  newspapers  of  a  Boston  shoemaker,  cruelly 
beaten  and  tarred  and  feathered  in  Savannah  for  supposed 
"abolitionism."  I  told  him  I  remembered  printing  it  in 
the  Albany  Journal. 

"I  am  that  shoemaker,"  said  he.  "I  enlisted  in  the 
first  Massachusetts  regiment  I  could  find,  and  I  have  got 
so  far  on  my  way  back  to  Savannah  to  see  those  gentlemen 
again." 

Returning  to  our  boat,  we  found  Captain  Hewett,  of 
the  British  steamer  Rinaldo,  who  had  come  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  Secretary  of  State.  The  Rinaldo  took 


200        A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies 

Slidell  and  Mason  when  they  were  released  from  Fort 
Warren ;  and  is  now  returned  to  Norfolk. 

We  steamed  down  the  river  again,  stopping  to  look  at 
the  deserted  rebel  fortifications  on  Craney  Island  and 
Sewall's  Point,  and  to  get  a  piece  of  the  wreck  of  the 
Merrimac, — and  so  on  to  Fortress  Monroe — landed  again 
— were  received  by  General  Wool  with  a  salute  and  all  the 
honours — went  on  board  the  Minnesota — were  received  by 
the  Commodore  with  a  salute  and  all  the  honours  there — 
examined  her  armament,  her  five  hundred  men,  her  depths 
of  decks  below  decks,  and  machinery  below  them  all — 
and  now  we  are  returned  to  the  wharf  of  the  fort,  where 
we  are  to  sleep  tonight. 

Saturday. 

Saturday  Commodore  Goldsborough  had  fixed  upon 
for  an  expedition  up  the  James  River,  to  attack  and 
destroy  the  fortifications  which  the  Monitor  and  Galena 
had  run  by  without  reducing.  At  seven  in  the  morning 
the  ships  got  under  way  in  order  of  battle — a  magnificent 
sight.  A  large  steam  tugboat,  under  command  of  Lieu- 
tenant Selfridge,  with  one  large  gun,  led  the  way,  to  open 
the  attack,  then  at  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile  behind  came 
the  Dacotah,  an  equal  distance  behind  her  the  Susque- 
hanna,  with  the  blue  pennant  of  the  Commodore,  then 
behind  her  the  Wachusett,  and  behind  her  the  Maratanza. 
Last  of  all  followed  our  boat. 

We  passed  on  up  the  river  fifteen  miles.  We  found  the 
first  battery  at  Day  Point;  reconnoitered  with  the  glass; 
found  it  deserted  and  passed  on.  A  few  miles  farther  up, 
the  telescope  showed  a  secession  flag  still  waving  over 
"Fort  Huger"  on  Hardy's  Bluff. 

We  saw  the  signals  hoisted  on  the  flagship,  heard  the 
drums  beat  to  quarters,  and  saw  the  guns  run  out,  as  the 
whole  fleet  slowly  steamed  up  in  line  toward  the  fort. 


A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies        201 

Presently  a  puff  of  white  smoke  from  the  tug,  and  then 
the  dull  report  of  her  gun.  No  reply  from  the  fort.  Then 
the  Dacotah  veered  slightly;  and  a  larger  puff  of  smoke 
from  her,  followed  by  a  louder  report.  A  second  after, 
we  saw  the  shell  burst  over  the  fort.  Then  the  Susque- 
hanna  opened  with  her  hundred  pounders,  of  which  we 
could  see  the  flash  as  well  as  the  smoke.  Then  the  Mara- 
tanza,  just  before  us;  and  we  saw  the  shells  go,  tearing  up 
the  earth  of  the  fort  in  a  shower.  Still  no  reply.  The 
flagship  again  signalled,  the  firing  ceased,  and  a  small  boat, 
filled  with  sailors  and  marines,  with  cutlasses  and  muskets, 
pushed  off  from  each  vessel. 

They  landed,  and  ran  up  the  bank  like  mad.  Presently, 
we  saw  the  flag,  staff  and  all,  come  down  with  a  crash  and 
a  hurrah.  Then  it  went  up  again  with  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  substituted,  and  then  another  cheer.  Then  the 
sailors  returned,  and  the  tug  came  alongside  with  an  officer 
to  report  that  the  enemy  had  evacuated  the  battery, 
leaving  all  the  guns,  some  shotted  and  ready  for  use, 
their  stores,  their  dinner  half  eaten,  and  the  flag  nailed 
to  the  staff. 

So  the  James  River  was  opened.  We  started  again  up 
the  river,  but  found  nothing  for  some  miles.  At  last,  two 
steamers  carrying  the  Union  flag  hove  in  sight  around  a 
point.  They  fired  a  gun  when  they  saw  us.  We  hailed 
them,  and  sent  for  the  commanding  officer  to  come  on 
board.  He  came,  a  young  lieutenant,  the  commander 
having  been  wounded  in  a  battle  near  Richmond.  His 
boat  was  the  Port  Royal,  the  other  the  Naugatuck.  He 
told  us  of  the  repulse  at  Fort  Darling,  and  then  went  on 
down  to  report  to  the  Commodore,  who  came  on  board  for 
a  consultation  as  to  what  next. 

About  dusk  we  started  up  again,  to  try  to  go  up  as  far 
as  Jamestown,  to  see  the  ruins  of  historic  interest.  Three 
of  the  gunboats  went  along  to  convoy  us  in  safety.  But 


202         A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies 

the  channel  was  crooked  and  shallow,  and  the  pilot  new. 
The  Wachusett  went  aground ;  then  the  Port  Royal.  We 
left  the  Maratanza  trying  to  draw  her  comrades  off,  and 
went  on  alone.  The  shores  were  dark  and  desolate,  the 
river  without  a  craft,  and  the  night  still  and  silent.  Pre- 
sently we  went  aground,  but  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  we 
were  off  again. 

About  eleven  o'clock  Captain  Dahlgren  announced 
that  we  were  off  Jamestown,  though  the  river  and  shore 
looked  as  dark  and  desolate  there  as  anywhere  else.  To 
guard  against  surprise,  the  lights  were  all  put  out,  the 
howitzers  loaded,  the  muskets  distributed  to  the  crew, 
and  the  steam  kept  up,  ready  for  a  start  at  a  moment's 
notice.  But  nobody  disturbed  us. 

Sunday. 

At  daylight  we  were  up  to  see  Jamestown.  The  whole 
of  it  consists  of  a  ruined  brick  doorway  of  the  old  church 
where  Captain  John  Smith  worshipped.  There  was  one 
house  nearby,  and  an  earthwork  for  a  fort,  from  which 
smoke  was  ascending.  We  sent  a  boat  ashore.  They 
found  the  house  and  fort  both  empty;  two  dogs  and  two 
"contrabands"  were  the  only  living  beings.  The  "con- 
trabands" reported  that  the  people  in  the  house  and  in 
the  earthwork,  alarmed  by  our  boat,  had  fled  in  the  night. 
They,  the  "contrabands,"  asked  to  come  on  board;  so 
the  sailors  brought  them. 

Soon  after,  a  large  boat  was  seen  pulling  down  from  the 
direction  of  the  rebel  lines.  Spy-glasses  were  brought 
into  requisition.  The  boat  was  heading  directly  for  the 
steamboat,  but  whether  its  occupants  were  armed  could 
not,  at  first,  be  ascertained.  Presently  an  officer  re- 
marked: "I  think  they  are  all  black,  sir," — a  welcome 
announcement;  for  in  that  case  they  were  all  friends. 

Sure  enough,  when  it  came  nearer  and  drew  alongside, 


A  Cruise  between  Two  Armies        203 

the  boat  was  seen  to  be  filled  with  thirteen  men,  one  wo- 
man, and  two  children,  in  shabby  clothes,  but  having 
neither  arms,  provisions,  nor  plunder.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken,  as  they  pulled  fearlessly  up  to  the  gangway,  until 
the  leader  stood  up  and  was  preparing  to  climb  on  board. 

"Ahoy,  there,"  called  out  the  officer  of  the  deck. 
"Who  are  you?  Where  are  you  going?" 

The  answer  was  respectful  but  sententious.  "Going 
along  with  yous,  Mas'r." 

"But  you  don't  know  where  we're  going.  Don't  you 
see  that  we  are  headed  toward  Richmond?  What  made 
you  come  to  us?" 

The  coloured  spokesman  grinned  and  pointed  upward. 

"Ain't  afraid  to  go  nowhar'  with  you,  Mas'r,  under 
dat  flag." 

So  they  set  their  boat  adrift,  and  confided  their  lives 
and  fortunes  to  our  charge.  The  woman  was  as  white  as 
Louisa,  and  the  children  whiter  still.  They  said  they 
were  slaves  of  Colonel  Millroy  and  Colonel  Stratton  of 
the  Confederate  army;  that  their  masters  had  carried  off 
the  corn  to  the  mountains  in  North  Carolina,  and  were 
going  to  take  them  there.  So  they  took  a  boat  out  of  a 
pond,  carried  it  in  the  night  on  their  shoulders,  launched 
it  on  the  James  River,  and  met  us.  One  of  them  said  his 
master  "swore  up  to  his  waist"  when  he  told  them  he  was 
going  to  take  them  to  Carolina. 

We  turned  our  steamer  down  the  river  again — passed  on 
without  incident,  except  the  discovery  of  plenty  of  Con- 
federate barracks,  sheds,  and  fortifications — all  deserted — 
rejoined  the  fleet,  stopped  at  Newport  News  to  pay  a  visit 
to  General  Mansfield,  were  received  with  salutes,  etc., 
saw  the  wrecks  of  the  Cumberland  and  Congress,  the  hole 
made  in  General  Mansfield's  room  by  a  shell  from  the 
Merrimac,  and  finally  returned  to  Fortress  Monroe  at 
noon.  Captain  Gautier,  of  the  French  frigate  Gassendi, 


2O4  A  Season  of  Reverses  and  Depressions 

came  on  board  to  pay  us  a  visit.  We  landed  our  "  contra- 
bands" to  go  to  work  in  the  navy  yard,  except  the  woman 
and  children,  whom  we  decided  to  bring  to  Washington. 

Monday. 

We  left  Fortress  Monroe  last  evening,  had  an  unevent- 
ful voyage  up  Chesapeake  Bay  and  the  Potomac  during 
the  night,  and  have  arrived  here  safe  and  well  today. 

I  cannot  close  this  chronicle  of  our  "Cruise"  better 
than  by  quoting  my  father's  comment  on  it  in  a  letter  to 
his  daughter  Fanny: 

"Our  excursion  into  Virginia  was  very  interesting  and 
very  instructive.  We  saw  war,  not  in  its  holiday  garb, 
but  in  its  stern  and  fearful  aspect.  We  saw  the  desola- 
tion that  follows,  and  the  terror  that  precedes  its  march. 
We  saw,  in  the  relaxation  of  African  bondage,  and  the 
flight  of  bondsmen  and  bondswomen  with  their  children, 
how  Providence  brings  relief  to  some  out  of  the  crimes 
and  sufferings  of  our  common  race. 

"All  the  hopes  and  fears  and  anxieties  of  this  unhappy 
strife  renew  themselves  at  this  moment,  and  cluster  about 
the  armies  at  Richmond  and  Corinth.  The  public  mind, 
accustomed  to  successes,  is  little  disturbed — but  for  one 
who  has  such  responsibilities  as  mine,  there  is  nothing  but 
unwearied  watchfulness.  I  believe  that  the  good  cause 
will  prevail,  but  I  know  very  well  that  it  must  encounter 
occasional  reverses.  I  prepare  to  meet  them." 

July,  1862. 

A  Season  of  Reverses  and  Depression.  When  the  news 
came  of  the  "Seven  Days'  Battles"  on  the  Peninsula,  the 
first  effect  on  the  popular  mind  was  that  of  incredulity  and 
bewilderment.  Then  succeeded  conflicting  arguments 
over  contradictory  reports,  and  then  followed  general 
consternation  and  alarm.  It  was  claimed  that  McClellan 


A  Season  of  Reverses  and  Depression    205 

had  only  made  a  "change  of  base."  But  the  "change  of 
base"  was  evidently  compulsory.  The  base  might  be  a 
better  one,  but  it  was  one  he  was  forced  to  take.  Every 
one  of  the  battles  was  claimed  to  have  ended  in  a  victory, 
yet  the  general  character  of  the  movement  was  very  like 
a  retreat.  The  army  had  behaved  with  great  gallantry 
and  bravery,  and  the  loss  of  life  was  fearful.  But  what 
had  been  gained  or  lost?  Perhaps  a  humorous  bit  in 
Vanity  Fair  well  enough  expressed  the  state  of  the  public 
mind.  Its  war  correspondent  "MacArone"  said:  "Yes, 
my  boy,  we  have  had  a  great  victory.  And  now  we  want 
to  know  who  is  to  blame  for  it !  Believe  nothing  about  the 
army  until  you  see  it  in  the  newspapers.  P.  S.  Believe 
nothing  that  you  do  see  in  the  newspapers." 

General  Heintzelman,  afterwards,  speaking  of  the  move- 
ment, said  he  had  always  seen  the  train  of  stragglers  and 
camp  followers  moving  behind  the  army,  but  this  time 
they  went  ahead. 

There  were  frequent  and  anxious  meetings  of  the  Cabi- 
net, and  a  general  command  over  all  the  land  forces  of  the 
United  States  was  given  to  Major-General  Halleck,  who 
came  from  the  Western  Department  to  the  capital.  It 
was  evident  that  a  new  appeal  to  the  country  for  ad- 
ditional troops  was  necessary.  The  Secretary  of  State 
went  to  New  York  to  summon  a  conference  of  all  the  loyal 
governors,  and  to  ascertain  from  them  how  many  it  was 
safe  to  call  for.  He  telegraphed  the  result  of  this  confer- 
ence and  thereupon  the  President  issued  his  proclamation 
for  three  hundred  thousand  men.  The  response  to  this 
proclamation  was  more  favourable  than  could  have  been 
anticipated.  On  it  was  based  the  celebrated  lyric:  "We 
are  coming,  Father  Abraham,  three  hundred  thousand 
more!" 

The  "Circular  on  the  military  situation"  continued 
its  chronicle  of  events,  saying:  "General  Halleck,  upon 


2o6  Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle 

taking  command  of  the  army,  made  a  careful  survey  of 
the  entire  military  position,  and  concluded  thereupon  to 
withdraw  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  from  the  Peninsula, 
and  to  combine  all  our  forces  in  front  of  Richmond.  The 
measure  was  a  difficult  and  delicate  one." 

Three  weeks  later  the  "Circular"  contained  this: 
"Military  affairs  here  have  taken  an  unfavourable  direc- 
tion during  the  last  three  weeks.  The  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  which  was  in  command  of  General  McClellan, 
having  evacuated  its  position  on  the  James  River,  reached 
the  Potomac,  near  Alexandria,  unpursued  and  in  safety. 
"The  Army  of  Virginia,  under  General  Pope,  which 
was  advanced  to  the  Rappahannock,  was  flanked  by  the 
insurgents,  in  large  force,  and  retired  to  Manassas.  Here 
it  became  involved  in  a  series  of  severe  engagements. 
Meantime  the  insurgents,  executing  a  long-cherished 
design,  advanced  on  the  south  side  of  the  upper  Potomac, 
which  at  this  season  is  fordable  at  many  points,  and, 
crossing  it  at  and  above  Edwards  Ferry,  occupied 
Frederick.  When  there,  menacing  equally  Washington, 
Baltimore,  and  Harrisburg,  they  put  forth  an  appeal  to 
the  people  of  Maryland,  to  rise  and  join  in  the  insur- 
rection. Our  troops  having  recovered  from  a  temporary 
disorganization,  an  army  was  immediately  organized  and 
dispatched,  under  General  McClellan,  to  meet  the  insur- 
gents at  Frederick." 

June  and  July,  1862. 

Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle.  Those  were  gloomy  days 
in  Washington,  during  the  latter  part  of  June,  in  1862. 
High  expectations  had  been  suddenly  extinguished  by 
the  reverses  in  the  campaign  on  the  Peninsula.  Union 
men  were  disappointed  and  discouraged.  "  Copperheads" 
were  elated.  Censures  and  complaints  were  rife.  Ru- 
mours of  disaster  multiplied. 


Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle  207 

The  Cabinet  realized  that  the  situation  had  become 
critical.  They  knew  also  of  dangers  that,  as  yet,  the 
general  public  were  not  aware  of.  Recruiting  had  fallen 
off.  The  army  itself  was  melting  away,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  casualties,  desertions,  discharges,  and  disease. 
Large  and  speedy  reinforcements  were  needed.  How 
could  they  be  obtained?  The  reports  from  the  recruit- 
ing officers  showed  that  popular  feeling  was  even  more 
despondent  in  the  great  cities  than  in  the  country  at  large. 

There  were  frequent  conferences  at  the  War  Depart- 
ment. Stanton  was  sending  forward  regiments,  rations, 
and  supplies  as  rapidly  as  they  could  be  obtained.  The 
President  spent  many  hours  there  daily,  so  as  to  be  in 
immediate  touch  with  the  telegraph,  bringing  good  news 
and  bad,  and  in  consultation  with  the  Secretary  and  the 
military  commanders.  The  Secretary  of  State  arranged 
to  go  north,  to  try  to  rouse  popular  feeling,  hoping  by 
cooperation  with  the  loyal  governors  and  public  bodies 
to  hasten  the  progress  of  enlistments,  and,  if  possible, 
to  convert  despondency  into  renewed  enthusiasm. 

Before  starting  for  New  York,  he  invited  the  members 
of  the  New  York  delegation  in  the  House  of  Represen- 
tatives to  an  afternoon  conference  at  his  house.  Congress 
was  near  the  end  of  its  session.  Its  work  had  been  practi- 
cally done.  It  had  aided  the  Government  with  such 
legislation  and  appropriations  as  were  practicable. 

He  suggested  that  they  could  now  best  help  the  Union 
cause  by  hastening  homeward,  without  waiting  for  the 
adjournment,  and  endeavouring  to  aid  in  the  work  of 
raising  and  sending  forward  the  new  troops  so  greatly 
needed. 

His  suggestion  met  with  hearty  response.  Such  mem- 
bers as  could  be  spared  from  committee  labours  agreed 
to  go  at  once.  Several  believed  they  could  do  effective 
work  in  that  way.  Some  even  declared  they  could  organ- 


2o8  Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle 

ize  new  regiments,  and  bring  them  to  Washington  them- 
selves before  the  reassembling  of  Congress.  Wheeler, 
Pomeroy,  Van  Valkenburg,  Diven,  and  others  started 
home  for  this  patriotic  duty. 

They  accomplished  it  with  speed  and  zeal,  and  the  regi- 
ments they  raised  were  among  the  first  of  that  great  army 
that  soon  was  chanting,  in  response  to  the  President's 
proclamation : 

"We're  coming,  Father  Abraham,  three  hundred 
thousand  more." 

Two  of  the  members  whose  districts  adjoined  each 
other,  Van  Valkenburg  and  Diven,  agreed  to  combine 
their  efforts,  and  so  hasten  the  mustering  of  the  first 
regiment.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  them  when  they 
marched  it  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  a  thousand 
strong,  with  the  two  Congressmen  at  its  head,  as  Colo- 
nel and  Lieutenant-Colonel.  They  gave  the  President  a 
marching  salute,  and  then  were  speedily  hurried  north- 
ward to  overtake  and  join  the  reorganized  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  which  was  following  Lee  up  into  northern 
Maryland. 

They  arrived  while  Lee  and  McClellan  were  confront- 
ing each  other,  apparently  on  the  eve  of  battle  in  the 
vicinity  of  Sharpsburg. 

The  Colonel  presented  himself  at  headquarters  to 
announce  their  arrival  and  report  for  duty.  General 
McClellan  received  him. 

"Your  regiment  are  raw  recruits,  I  believe,  Colonel?" 

"Yes,  General,  and  the  officers  are  about  as  raw  as  the 
men.  Hardly  a  veteran  among  them.  Many  of  them 
farmers'  boys  who  have  never  handled  a  musket.  But 
they  saw  their  fathers  and  older  brothers  'go  to  the  front ' 
last  year,  and  they  are  eager  to  follow  their  example." 

"Are  they  armed  and  equipped?" 

"Yes,  fully.     Secretary  Stanton  saw  to  that." 


Fanners*  Boys  in  Battle  209 

"Have  they  had  any  drills,  at  all?" 

"Hardly  any.  Hastily  organized  and  lacking  time 
and  drill-masters." 

"What  can  they  do?" 

"Why,  they  are  ready  and  willing  to  do  anything  they 
can,  if  somebody  will  show  them  how." 

"Can  they  support  a  battery,  do  you  think?" 

"I  do  not  believe  I  quite  know  what  that  is  myself, 
General." 

"Why,  a  battery  of  artillery  is  posted,  say  on  yonder 
hill,  to  throw  shot  and  shell  at  the  enemy.  If  the  enemy 
see  that  it  is  exposed,  with  no  large  infantry  force  to  pro- 
tect it,  they  will  probably  send  out  cavalry  to  capture  it 
by  a  dash  or  break  it  up.  What  you  would  have  to  do 
would  be  to  draw  your  regiment  up  in  line  and  in  rear  of 
the  battery,  so  as  to  defend  it,  if  attacked,  and  perhaps 
discourage  attempts  to  attack  it.  Can  you  do  that?" 

"Oh,  yes,  General,  they  can  do  that.  They  know  how 
to  stand  in  line,  at  least." 

"Very  well,  then,  your  orders  will  reach  you  this  even- 
ing. Don't  let  your  men  break,  if  you  can  help  it,  Colonel. 
If  you  are  attacked — do  the  best  you  can." 

In  the  grey  of  the  early  morning,  a  battery  of  light 
artillery  was  occupying  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  the 
"regiment  of  farmers'  boys"  was  drawn  up  in  line  behind 
it.  The  artillery  duel  began,  and  was  echoed  by  other 
artillery  duels  going  on,  at  right  and  left,  on  other  similar 
heights.  A  broad  stretch  of  country  was  exposed  to  view. 
Moving  bodies  of  troops  in  the  distance  with  puffs  of 
smoke  rolling  ever  them,  followed  by  roar  of  cannon  or 
rattle  of  musketry,  made  it  an  exciting  and  even  exhilarat- 
ing spectacle — though  its  method  or  plan  was  unintelligible 
to  the  spectator. 

At  first  there  seemed  to  be  little  hint  of  danger  to  the 
new  soldiers.  But  presently  they  began  to  hear  the  whis- 

14 


210  Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle 

tling  of  bullets  in  the  air  overhead,  or  saw  them  tearing 
up  the  ground  at  their  feet.  Evidently,  the  Confederate 
sharpshooters  were  "getting  the  range."  Soon  a  soldier 
dropped  his  musket  and  fell  with  a  groan,  a  spurt  of  blood 
on  his  uniform  showing  where  he  was  hit.  The  Colonel 
ordered  two  of  his  comrades  to  take  him  to  the  improvised 
hospital  in  the  rear.  Before  they  returned  to  the  ranks, 
a  similar  "casualty"  occurred  at  another  part  of  the  long 
line.  They  were  "under  fire." 

The  Colonel  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  strode  up  and 
down  in  front  of  the  line,  from  end  to  end,  with  brief 
words  of  encouragement.  "Steady,  boys,  steady." 
"Stand  firm."  "Keep  to  the  ranks."  "You're  doing 
your  duty."  "Don't  forget  you're  defending  the  old 
flag."  "Whatever  happens  to  us,  we  mustn't  let  that 
battery  be  taken."  The  men  looked  at  each  other  and 
at  their  officers,  as  they  saw  their  comrades  fall,  but  said 
little.  One  muttered:  "I  wish  the  Johnny  Rebs  would 
charge,  or  we  could.  I'd  rather  fall  fighting  than  stand 
here  to  be  shot  at." 

And  now  the  fire  grew  hotter  and  fiercer.  Not  only 
hissing  bullets,  but  screaming,  bursting,  death-dealing 
shells  began  to  come  over  from  the  enemy's  lines.  Killed 
and  wounded  men  lay  on  the  grass  at  their  feet.  "Hell 
had  broke  loose." 

An  aide-de-camp,  carrying  orders  to  some  distant  regi- 
ment, came  galloping  past,  in  their  rear.  Without  stopping 
his  gallop,  he  shouted  as  he  went  by: 

"You  d d  fools,  why  don't  you  lie  down?" 

It  was  a  rough  but  welcome  salutation.  They  had 
not  supposed  they  could  lie  down.  Even  the  Colonel 
had  not  known  that  to  be  any  part  of  the  game. 

Availing  himself  of  the  implied  order  to  "get  under 
cover,"  he  ordered  the  regiment  to  assume  a  less  exposed 
attitude,  telling  them  to  continue  to  show  enough  of 


Farmers'  Boys  in  Battle  211 

themselves,  or  of  their  caps  and  bayonets,  to  let  the  enemy 
see  that  they  were  still  there,  and  ready  to  resist  attack 
and  "protect  the  battery."  In  this  recumbent  position, 
the  casualties  were  much  less  frequent.  Bullets  whistled 
over  them  and  fragments  of  shell  passed  by  them,  that 
would  have  killed  them,  if  they  had  remained  standing. 

The  horrible  storm  continued  for  hours,  but  at  last  it 
began  to  show  signs  of  slackening.  Word  passed  from 
man  to  man,  and  from  regiment  to  regiment,  that  the 
enemy  were  falling  back,  perhaps  preparing  to  retire  from 
the  field. 

The  rumours  increased  in  number  and  persistence, 
until  at  last,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  news  came  that  General 
McClellan  announced  a  success.  The  Union  army  had 
won  a  victory,  and  it  would  be  known  in  history  as  the 
"  Battle  of  Antietam  "! 

In  the  evening,  brigade  and  regiment  commanders  were 
summoned  to  headquarters,  to  report  the  casualties  and 
experiences  of  their  respective  commands.  The  Colonel 
found  an  excited  and  joyous  crowd  of  officers  exchanging 
congratulations,  and  explaining  the  bandages  and  slings 
that  some  of  them  were  wearing.  General  McClellan 
seized  him  by  both  hands. 

"Colonel,  your  regiment  behaved  splendidly.  Never 
saw  raw  troops  do  better.  They  held  their  ground  like 
veterans.  How  did  you  manage  to  keep  them  so  firm 
and  steady?" 

The  modest  Colonel  said:  "Well,  General,  perhaps  it 
was  partly  due  to  our  ignorance  of  the  art  of  war.  We 
did  not  know  how  to  run  away.  We  were  put  there 
to  support  the  battery,  and  so  we  just  stayed  on  do- 
ing it." 

The  General  smiled.  "Your  farmers'  boys  are  good 
fellows.  They  will  make  a  fine  regiment,  and  have  an 
honourable  record.  Give  them  my  congratulations." 


212  The  Military  Situation 

February,  1863. 

The  Military  Situation.  At  the  close  of  the  second  year 
of  the  war,  and  the  beginning  of  the  third,  the  aspect  of 
the  military  situation  was  still  indecisive.  The  victories 
of  Antietam  and  South  Mountain  had  restored  the  popular 
confidence,  and  recruiting  was  going  on  briskly.  But 
the  two  great  armies,  face  to  face  with  each  other  across 
the  Rappahannock,  seemed  inclined  neither  to  advance 
nor  retreat.  At  the  West,  Vicksburg  still  held  out  against 
a  protracted  siege.  The  Union  troops  were  making 
active  movements  with  the  general  result  of  gaining 
ground.  The  Southerners  gained  no  new  ground,  but 
stubbornly  held  their  own. 

As  the  winter  wore  on,  there  were  two  favourable  and 
two  unfavourable  movements.  General  Burnside,  who 
was  now  in  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac, 
crossed  the  river  and  made  an  attack  upon  the  Confeder- 
ates, but  was  repulsed  with  heavy  loss,  and  retired  to  his 
former  position.  In  like  manner,  General  Sherman  made 
an  unsuccessful  assault  upon  Vicksburg,  hoping  to  carry 
the  fortifications  by  storm.  Repulsed,  his  army  retired, 
and  under  the  command  of  General  Grant  resumed  the 
siege.  The  two  victories  to  offset  these  defeats  were  a 
victory  by  General  Rosecrans  at  Murfreesboro,  and  the 
capture  of  Arkansas  Post  with  a  large  amount  of  military 
stores  by  General  McClernand. 

Meanwhile  the  Government  was  continually  adding 
vessels  to  the  navy,  and  had  commenced  the  construction 
of  ironclads  to  take  part  in  the  blockade.  But  the 
South  was  also  active  in  this  direction,  chartering  and 
constructing  numerous  blockade  runners,  and,  having 
British  sympathy  on  its  side,  had  no  difficulty  in  raising 
loans,  and  purchasing  arms  and  supplies.  American 
merchant  vessels  were  exposed  to  capture  by  the  enemy's 
privateers  or  vessels  of  war,  and  so  the  American  mer- 


Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War      213 

chant  marine  sustained  a  blow  from  which  it  has  never 
recovered. 

Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War.  As  the  progress 
of  the  war  developed  new  opportunities,  redoubled  energy 
and  daring  were  shown  in  blockade  running  enterprises, 
as  well  as  in  sending  information  and  supplies  to  the  in- 
surgents through  the  Union  lines.  The  Southerners  natu- 
rally hated  the  blockade.  The  British  as  naturally  shared 
in  that  feeling.  The  South  encouraged  communication 
in  every  possible  way  with  England,  while  the  North  had 
for  its  own  safety  to  impose  a  vexatious  system  of  pass- 
ports, police  surveillance,  frontier  guards,  and  blockading 
squadrons. 

Arrests  and  seizures  were  of  frequent  occurrence.  Then 
the  Secessionists  would  avail  themselves  of  the  protection 
of  European  governments  for  those  engaged  in  these  enter- 
prises. Havana,  Nassau,  and  the  towns  on  the  Canadian 
frontier  became  favourite  points  of  rendezvous.  They 
could  meet,  consult,  and  mature  their  plans  with  impunity, 
and  could  find  there  many  whom  cupidity  or  love  of 
adventure  would  lead  to  join  them. 

The  authorities,  both  British  and  Spanish,  were  jealous 
of  interference  by  United  States  officers  with  any  vessels 
or  persons  under  their  jurisdiction.  The  vessels  and  men 
engaged,  if  successful,  loudly  boasted  of  their  connection 
with  the  rebels,  but  when  intercepted  or  captured  declared 
themselves  "neutrals"  and  claimed  the  protection  of 
foreign  governments. 

An  infinite  variety  of  questions  arose,  and  the  shelves  of 
the  Department  of  State  to  this  day  groan  under  the  bur- 
den of  the  documents  and  discussions  to  which  they  gave 
rise.  Many  of  the  cases,  arising  under  novel  conditions 
of  modern  warfare,  were  without  any  precedent  to  govern 
their  decision.  Yet  it  was  necessary,  not  only  to  render 


214      Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War 

exact  justice,  but  to  do  it  in  a  way  that  should  not  offend 
the  roused  susceptibilities  either  of  the  American  or  the 
foreign  nation. 

Sometimes  a  single  seizure  would  give  rise  to  half  a 
dozen  different  questions,  while  the  "Laird  rams,"  the 
Florida  and  the  Alabama,  came  up,  in  one  shape  or  another, 
by  every  foreign  mail. 

The  Queen's  proclamation  of  "belligerent  rights"  was 
claimed  as  a  convenient  screen  for  all  kinds  of  daring 
enterprises.  They  were  further  encouraged  and  stimu- 
lated by  London  insurance  companies.  Those  engaged  in 
them  often  obtained  insurance  on  their  vessels  and  cargoes 
at  Lloyds  and  other  offices,  at  fifteen  per  cent,  for  running 
in,  and  fifteen  per  cent,  for  coming  out.  Insurers  were 
tempted  to  share  in  these  ventures  by  the  enormous  profits, 
while  the  shippers  and  merchants  made  money  if  even 
but  half  of  their  vessels  got  safe  into  port. 

Unusual  activity  and  unwonted  industry  pervaded  the 
Washington  legations  of  all  the  maritime  Powers.  The 
attaches  of  the  British  Legation  found  themselves  as 
busy  as  hard-working  attorneys'  clerks.  A  dozen  commu- 
nications a  day  would  frequently  pass  between  the  Lega- 
tion and  the  Department.  There  were  vessels  unlawfully 
detained,  on  suspicion  of  running  the  blockade;  vessels 
lawfully  captured  in  attempting  to  run  it;  rebel  cruisers 
receiving  aid  and  comfort  in  colonial  ports;  Federal  cruisers 
in  the  same  ports  denied  ordinary  courtesy;  rebel  ships 
escaping  the  vigilance  of  British  authorities;  British  ships 
complaining  of  the  surveillance  of  American  ones ;  prison- 
ers wanting  to  be  released  on  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance ; 
prisoners  taking  it  and  breaking  it  as  soon  as  released; 
seamen  claiming  exemption  because  they  were  British 
subjects;  claims  of  shipowners  for  damages;  intercepted 
dispatches;  vessels  wrongly  seized,  or  rightly  seized  but 
wrongly  dealt  with ;  customs  regulations  not  in  accordance 


Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War      215 

with  treaties;  customs  decisions  not  in  accordance  with 
facts ;  duties  that  ought  to  be  refunded ;  duties  that  ought 
not  to  be  collected;  foreign  subjects  claiming  exemption 
from  draft;  enlisted  soldiers  claiming  release  as  foreigners 
after  having  spent  their  bounty  money;  officers  arrested 
as  spies  and  spies  escaping  as  clergymen ;  rifles  shipped  as 
farming  implements,  and  gunpowder  as  white  lead;  rebel 
munitions  of  war  purporting  to  be  "arms  for  the  Indians" ; 
and  treasonable  documents  pretending  to  be  "Bibles  for 
the  heathen." 

The  French  Government,  like  the  British,  had  no  faith 
that  our  national  Union  would  ever  be  restored,  and  from 
time  to  time  manifested  its  impatience  at  the  continu- 
ance of  what  it  deemed  our  hopeless  struggle.  On  at 
least  seven  different  occasions,  the  preliminary  steps 
towards  intervention  were  taken,  and  only  checked  by 
diplomatic  address  on  the  part  of  the  United  States,  or 
by  news  of  success  of  the  Union  arms. 

First  was  the  project  of  joint  action  with  Great  Britain 
already  described.  This  was  nipped  in  the  bud  in  1861. 

Then  the  plan  to  make  common  cause  with  Great  Brit- 
ain in  the  "Trent  Affair."  This  was  thwarted  by  the 
diplomatic  settlement. 

Next  the  notice  given  to  the  United  States,  that  the 
manufacturing  and  commercial  classes  of  France  were 
suffering  from  the  depression  caused  by  the  blockade, 
which  prevented  the  export  of  cotton,  and  the  import 
of  French  goods  at  Southern  ports.  This  was  checked 
by  the  capture  of  New  Orleans  and  other  ports,  and 
reopening  them  to  trade  under  the  flag  of  the  Union. 

Then  came  the  denunciation  of  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment for  temporarily  obstructing  Charleston  harbour 
by  sinking  vessels  loaded  with  stone.  This  was  answered 
by  saying  that  France  herself  had  done  the  same  thing, 
under  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht,  and  had  not  only  temporarily 


2i6      Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War 

but  permanently  closed  a  harbour,  that  remains  closed 
today. 

In  1862,  the  Emperor's  address  to  the  Chambers  was 
prepared,  and  contained  an  intimation  that  he  was  about 
to  take  steps  for  active  measures  to  break  the  blockade. 
The  secession  advocates  in  Europe  were  jubilant  over 
the  expected  announcement,  and  stock  speculators  of 
the  London  Exchange  and  Paris  Bourse  were  going  to 
make  their  fortunes  by  its  effects  on  the  market.  At  the 
last  moment,  the  Emperor  became  convinced  that  the 
step  was  a  dangerous  one,  and  the  threatening  paragraph 
was  stricken  out.  As  the  American  Minister,  Mr.  Dayton, 
wrote:  "The  Emperor's  address  came;  but  it  was  not 
what  they  expected.  They  said  that  just  before  its  de- 
livery the  '  switch  had  been  turned  off, '  and  forthwith  the 
British  ministry,  the  London  Times,  and  other  portions 
of  the  English  press  ran  off  along  with  it." 

In  1863,  the  Emperor  renewed  his  proposal  for  joint 
interference  in  the  American  contest,  saying  that  if  other 
Powers  refused,  he  would  proceed  alone.  But,  before 
he  was  ready  to  do  so,  came  the  fall  of  Vicksburg  and  the 
victory  of  Gettysburg,  and  the  French  Minister  at  Wash- 
ington wrote  his  Imperial  master  that  in  view  of  these 
great  successes  of  the  Union  arms  he  had  better  wait  still 
longer. 

The  projected  intervention  was  again  and  again  at- 
tempted in  some  different  form,  during  each  succeeding 
year.  At  one  time,  the  plan  was  seriously  discussed  at 
Paris  of  putting  forward  some  small  power  like  Belgium 
to  pick  a  quarrel  with  the  United  States,  and  then  the 
two  great  empires,  suddenly  espousing  that  side  of  the 
controversy,  would  be  able  jointly  to  crush  the  American 
Government,  thus  drawn  into  a  trap. 

The  latest  and  most  dangerous  perhaps  of  all  the  French 
movements  was  the  expedition  to  set  up  an  empire  in 


Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War      217 

Mexico,  overthrowing  the  republican  government  there, 
and  menacing  it  in  the  United  States.  The  French  Minis- 
ter of  Foreign  Affairs,  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys,  in  conversing 
with  Mr.  Dayton,  the  American  envoy,  assured  him  that 
France  had  no  thought  of  conquering  Mexico,  or  establish- 
ing a  permanent  power  there.  "In  the  abandon  of  a 
conversation  somewhat  familiar,"  added  Mr.  Dayton, 
"I  took  occasion  to  say,  that  in  quitting  Mexico  France 
might  leave  a  puppet  behind  her.  'No,'  replied  M. 
Drouyn  de  1'Huys,  'no,  the  string  would  be  too  long  to 
work.'" 

In  this  opinion  the  Minister  was  sagacious  and  wise. 
But  ultimately  he  was  overruled  by  the  Emperor,  who 
had  determined  to  try  the  experiment  with  Maximilian. 
It  resulted  as  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  had  predicted,  "the 
string  was  too  long  to  work,"  and  the  unfortunate  Arch- 
duke finally  lost  not  only  the  empire,  but  his  life. 

But  all  foreign  governments  were  not  unfriendly  during 
the  war.  The  Latin-American  republics,  though  they 
could  not  give  aid,  did  not  withhold  their  sympathies. 
Even  the  threatening  cloud  of  European  intervention 
was  relieved  here  and  there  by  a  ray  of  sunshine.  Sweden 
and  Denmark  sent  words  of  sympathy.  Italy  expressed 
the  friendship  that  had  been  expected  from  her.  Prussia 
sent  assurances  of  just  and  generous  feeling.  The  Presi- 
dent of  the  only  republic  in  Europe  wrote  that  Switzerland 
regarded  the  struggle  with  the  deepest  anxiety,  adding 
that  "Switzerland  passed  through  a  similar  crisis  fourteen 
years  ago.  May  God  grant  that  the  United  States  of 
America  may  also  emerge  renewed  and  strengthened  from 
this  crisis." 

Mr.  Hitz,  the  Consul-General  of  Switzerland  at  Wash- 
ington, was  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  arriving  regiments 
on  Capitol  Hill,  and  relieved  their  wants  as  far  as  he  was 
able. 


218      Our  Foreign  Relations  in  the  War 

Russia  was  a  steadfast  friend  of  the  United  States 
during  the  war.  In  the  volumes  of  diplomatic  correspond- 
ence, there  are  very  few  pages  under  the  head  of  "Russia," 
and  these  contain  only  messages  of  amity  and  good  will. 
Russia  had  no  grounds  of  complaint  for  damages,  or  if 
she  had  she  never  presented  them.  The  plan  for  an 
intercontinental  telegraph,  to  connect  the  United  States 
and  Russia  by  way  of  Behring  Strait,  and  the  survey  of 
the  route  made  under  the  auspices  of  the  two  governments, 
helped  to  promote  the  mutual  good  feeling. 

It  was  through  the  legation  at  St.  Petersburg  that 
information  was  received  of  the  design  of  France  and 
England  to  enter  upon  a  scheme  of  joint  action  adverse  to 
the  United  States.  Russia  was  invited  to  join  in  their 
plans  for  "mediation"  and  "intervention,"  but  promptly 
refused  unless  the  United  States  should  ask  her. 

When  the  threatened  "intervention"  seemed,  never- 
theless, to  be  impending,  two  Russian  fleets  appeared 
in  American  waters,  and  passed  summer  and  winter  there. 
One  came  up  the  Potomac  to  Washington,  and  subse- 
quently visited  New  York.  The  other  appeared  at  San 
Francisco. 

Official  announcement  of  their  purposes  might  be  em- 
barrassing, and  Prince  Gortschakoff  was  a  sagacious 
diplomatist.  He  simply  sent  over  the  fleets,  and  in- 
structed the  Russian  Minister  to  say  that  they  came  for 
"no  unfriendly  purpose."  The  Government  and  people 
of  the  United  States  intuitively  understood  that,  while 
their  help  might  never  be  needed,  yet  if  needed  it  would 
be  forthcoming.  Courtesies  and  festivities  were  ex- 
changed on  ship  and  shore,  between  the  naval  officers 
and  the  authorities  at  New  York  and  Washington.  The 
Secretary  of  State  gave  an  official  dinner  to  the  higher 
officers  of  the  fleet,  and  the  Russian  Minister  responded 
by  another.  Congress  was  invited  as  a  body  to  visit  the 


A  Moorish  Episode  219 

fleet  at  the  navy  yard,  and  a  great  ball  was  held  in  the 
Russians'  honour  at  the  New  York  Academy  of  Music. 
The  significance  of  these  events  was  fully  appreciated 
at  London  and  Paris. 

February,  1862. 

A  Moorish  Episode.  Quaint,  medieval,  and  Sara- 
cenic, the  city  of  Tangier  rises  out  of  the  blue  sea,  toward 
the  commanding  heights  of  the  African  shore.  The  castle 
and  fortifications,  with  their  frowning  walls,  give  it  a 
formidable  air,  and  the  glare  of  its  whitish  buildings  in 
the  blazing  sun  give  it  an  aspect  of  cleanliness,  which 
is  not  borne  out  by  closer  inspection  of  its  narrow, 
unsavoury  streets. 

A  motley  population,  of  all  complexions,  throng  these 
streets,  shouting  at  each  other  in  a  babel  of  tongues, 
Prankish  and  Mahometan,  Jewish,  Italian,  Spanish,  and 
Portuguese.  White  turbans  and  black  slaves,  red  fezzes 
and  gleaming  simitars,  dogs,  donkeys,  and  camels,  add 
to  the  general  picturesqueness,  so  that  it  has  been  aptly 
said  by  a  traveller  that  in  Tangier  one  is  never  certain 
whether  he  is  living  in  the  Old  Testament  or  the  Arabian 
Nights. 

To  such  a  traveller,  it  seems  odd  to  see  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  gaily  fluttering  over  one  of  the  antique  structures 
with  calm  assertiveness.  Tangier  is  one  of  the  few  places 
in  the  world  where  the  United  States  Government  owns 
the  home  of  its  diplomatic  representative.  The  fact  that 
his  flag  has  waved  there  undisturbed  for  more  years  than 
any  living  man  can  remember  lends  to  the  American  Con- 
sul-General  a  prestige  and  dignity  not  always  accorded  to 
consuls  who  lodge  in  shabby,  shifting  quarters,  over  shops. 

Trade  and  intercourse  with  America  are  not  great, 
but  "down  along  the  coast  of  the  High  Barbaree"  there 
is  a  traditional  respect  for  the  American  flag,  handed 


220  A  Moorish  Episode 

down  from  the  days  when  the  navy  of  the  young  Republic 
amazed  Europe  by  sweeping  the  Barbary  pirates  out  of 
the  Mediterranean  waters,  where  they  had  prowled  and 
plundered  for  centuries. 

In  the  year  1862,  the  occupant  of  the  Consulate  was 
Judge  De  Long,  of  Ohio.  He  was  not  much  versed  in 
Oriental  wiles  or  modern  diplomacy,  but  he  was  a  zealous 
patriot,  an  honest  lawyer,  and  an  upright  official.  His 
blunt,  straightforward  talk  was  sometimes  displeasing^to 
his  European  colleagues,  but  it  impressed  the  Moslem 
authorities,  whose  ears  found  it  a  novelty  after  many 
years  of  listening  to  glib  phrases  uttered  in  every  language, 
from  modern  Parisian  to  ancient  Sanskrit. 

One  February  morning  news  was  brought  to  the  Con- 
sulate that  two  well-dressed  Americans,  with  an  air  of 
authority,  were  sauntering  through  the  streets  of  Tangier, 
indulging  in  offensive  and  insulting  remarks  about  the 
American  flag  and  its  Consul,  and  expressing  views  in 
general  that  were  highly  derogatory  to  the  honour  of  the 
United  States. 

Further  inquiry  easily  discovered  who  they  were,  for 
they  made  no  secret  of  it.  One  was  called  Tunstall  and 
said  he  had  been  acting  as  United  States  Consul  at  Cadiz, 
until  the  previous  summer.  The  other  was  Myers,  for- 
merly in  our  navy  and  now  lieutenant  of  the  Confederate 
cruiser  Sumter,  which  was  lying  in  the  port  of  Gibraltar, 
where  she  had  put  in  for  coal. 

Greatly  scandalized  by  such  proceedings,  the  Judge 
remarked:  "American  citizens  may  plot  treason  and  re- 
bellion at  home,  but  they  shall  not  do  so  where  I  am,  if 
I  have  the  power  to  prevent  it."  Thereupon,  he  promptly 
dispatched  a  messenger  to  Sidi  Mohammed  Bargash,  the 
Minister  of  State,  with  whom  he  held  intercourse  and 
requested  that  a  file  of  soldiers  should  be  sent  to  aid  him 
in  dealing  with  some  traitorous  fellow-countrymen. 


A  Moorish  Episode  221 

Treason  and  rebellion  are  not  uncommon  offences  in 
Morocco,  where  the  constituted  rulers  regard  them  as 
cardinal  sins,  and  the  usual  penalty  for  them  is  decapi- 
tation. 

When  Sidi  Mohammed  Bargash  inquired  what  the 
Consul-General  wished  to  have  done  with  his  malefactors, 
he  was  relieved  to  learn  that  the  Judge  did  not  ask  to  have 
their  heads  cut  off,  nor  to  have  them  thrown  into  the 
dungeons  of  the  castle,  but  only  to  have  them  delivered 
under  guard  at  the  door  of  the  American  Consulate. 

The  soldiers  were  sent.  They  overtook  the  offenders, 
who  were  leisurely  proceeding  toward  the  French  steamer 
on  which  they  were  about  to  re-embark.  The  Moorish 
soldiers  arrested  them  and  marched  them  up  to  the 
American  Consulate. 

Now  some  explanations  from  them  were  in  order. 
They  began  to  expostulate.  Their  arrest,  they  declared, 
was  absurd,  an  egregious  blunder.  They  were  peaceable 
travellers  in  a  foreign  land.  True,  they  were  at  war  with 
the  United  States,  but  Morocco  was  neutral  soil,  and 
nobody  had  a  right  to  stop  them  there.  They  pointed 
out  that  international  law,  and  the  rules  of  neutrality, 
entitled  them  to  immunity  from  arrest.  In  fact,  accord- 
ing to  law,  the  Consul  could  not  arrest  them. 

The  Judge's  reply  was  succinct  and  to  the  point.  He 
said  he  not  only  could  arrest  them,  but  that  he  had. 

They  declared  they  would  appeal  for  protection  to 
the  European  Powers,  all  of  whom  would  demand  their 
release. 

The  Judge  intimated  that  they  might  appeal  to  all  the 
governments  in  Christendom,  if  they  chose;  but  that 
it  would  take  considerable  time.  Meanwhile,  they  were 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  a  Mahometan  one,  which  was 
friendly  to  him  and  to  the  United  States. 

Finding  him  deaf  to  persuasion  and  argument,  they 


222  A  Moorish  Episode 

dispatched  a  communication  to  the  French  Consul, 
stating  their  case.  They  had  come  over  for  a  pleasure 
trip  across  the  Straits,  on  the  French  steamer  Ville  de 
Malaga,  intending  to  re-embark  on  her  in  the  evening. 
They  had  been  arrested  and  locked  up,  under  a  guard  of 
four  Moorish  soldiers,  without  any  warrant  or  justifica- 
tion. They  asked  his  interposition  to  end  this  absurd 
state  of  affairs. 

The  reply  of  the  French  Consul  was  courteous  but 
diplomatic.  He  regretted  their  detention.  But  they 
were  not  French  subjects,  and  when  they  left  the  French 
steamer  and  landed  on  Moorish  territory,  he  had  no  right 
to  protect  them,  nor  to  interfere  in  any  way  whatever. 

A  similar  application  to  the  British  Minister,  Mr. 
Drummond  Hay,  met  with  similar  unsatisfactory  results. 
Firstly,  the  Minister  said,  he  had  no  power  to  interfere,  and 
secondly,  Her  Majesty's  Government  had  given  positive 
instructions  to  her  ministers  and  consuls  to  observe  strict 
neutrality  in  this  unhappy  American  contest. 

The  prisoners  were  not  disheartened.  Like  their 
captor,  they  were  quick-witted,  resolute  Americans,  so 
they  cast  about  for  other  help.  Surely,  there  must  be 
plenty  of  sympathizers  with  the  Southern  cause  here  in 
Tangier.  They  had  found  them  at  Gibraltar,  at  Cadiz, 
in  fact,  everywhere  that  the  Sumter  had  touched.  It 
seemed  ridiculous  that  they  should  be  left  to  lie  here  in  a 
Moorish  prison. 

They  had  heard  that  Moorish  guards  sometimes  were 
open  to  bribery.  They  mustered  up  a  hundred  dollars 
in  gold  coins  and  a  gold  watch,  and  with  them  opened 
negotiations. 

Unluckily  the  Judge  got  wind  of  it,  and  promptly 
stopped  the  bargain.  Then  he  sent  to  Sidi  Mohammed 
Bargash  for  more  guards,  and  ordered  the  prisoners  put 
in  irons.  Someone  lent  them  a  case  knife,  with  which 


A  Moorish  Episode  223 

Myers  cut  the  rivets.  He  then  jumped  out  of  the  window. 
But  he  only  landed  in  the  consular  courtyard,  where  he 
was  immediately  caught  and  brought  back  to  confinement. 

But  other  instrumentalities  were  at  work  in  their  behalf. 
Now  appeared  upon  the  scene  no  less  a  personage  than  the 
Military  Secretary  of  the  Governor  of  Gibraltar. 

He  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  the  Moorish  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  from  the  commander  of  the  Confederate 
States  steamer  Sumter.  It  demanded  the  immediate 
release  of  the  prisoners, — implying  that  terrible  things 
would  occur  if  the  demand  were  not  complied  with.  It 
was  a  trifle  arrogant  in  tone,  considering  that  the  Sumter 
was  out  of  coal,  and  was  under  close  watch  by  the  United 
States  warship  Tuscarora,  which  was  cruising  off  Algeciras. 
But  it  had  weight  with  Sidi  Mohammed  Bargash.  He 
immediately  sat  down  to  write  a  polite  note  to  Judge  De 
Long,  saying: 

"We  have  received  a  letter  from  the  captain  of  the 
steamer  Sumter,  from  the  Confederate  States,  in  which 
they  inform  us  that  the  two  men  you  have  seized  are  of  the 
best  of  men,  and  they  are  guiltless, — except  that  they  are 
from  the  separated  Confederate  States.  We  have  no  doubt 
that  when  you  receive  this  letter,  you  will  put  them  free." 

This  was  couched  in  the  politest  of  Arabic.  The  answer 
to  it  was  in  vigorous  American. 

The  Judge  informed  his  Excellency:  first,  that  there 
was  no  government  known  or  recognized  as  the  "  Confeder- 
ate States,"  either  by  the  United  States  or  the  Empire  of 
Morocco,  and  that  the  captain  and  crew  of  the  Sumter, 
as  well  as  the  men  in  custody,  were  all  citizens  of  the 
United  States  resisting  .its  authority;  furthermore,  that 
the  Sumter  was  a  Federal  vessel,  seized  by  rebels,  and 
engaged  in  capturing,  plundering,  burning,  and  sinking 
peaceable  American  merchant  vessels.  He  concluded  by 
asking,  "Shall  seventy-six  years  of  uninterrupted  friend- 


224  A  Moorish  Episode 

ship  between  your  government  and  the  United  States  be 
brought  to  an  end  for  the  sake  of  pirates?" 

By  this  time  the  sympathizers  with  the  Southern 
cause  were  actively  stirring  up  the  motley  nationalities 
in  Tangier  to  disorder.  They  perceived  that  instead  of 
waiting  for  the  slow  action  of  the  Moorish  and  European 
governments  they  might  as  well  deliver  the  prisoners 
themselves,  by  means  of  inflammatory  speeches,  indig- 
nation meetings,  and  a  mob. 

The  movement  was  started  in  the  market-place,  where 
they  had  a  table  set  out,  with  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  in  the 
middle  of  the  street,  and  began  signing  and  pledging  them- 
selves in  solemn  form  to  force  the  release  of  the  prisoners 
at  all  hazards.  The  mob,  when  gathered,  would  march 
to  the  Consulate,  groan,  howl,  curse  and  swear,  break  in 
windows  and  doors,  and,  in  the  height  of  the  tumult, 
would  free  the  men  in  spite  of  their  guards. 

Word  of  the  threatening  state  of  affairs  in  the  market- 
place was  hastily  brought  to  the  Palace,  where  the  Viceroy, 
Prince  Muley  el  Abbas,  was  enjoying  a  quiet  smoke. 

The  Prince  listened,  and,  calmly  removing  the  nargileh 
from  his  lips,  remarked,  "Allah  is  great.  But  what  the 
devil  have  these  Christians  to  do  with  the  American  Con- 
sul's prisoners?"  He  signified  that  it  was  the  province 
of  the  lieutenant-governor  to  take  troops,  and  disperse 
these  riotous  Christians. 

And  now  comes  another  new  and  unexpected  actor  in 
the  drama.  Off  the  harbour  appears  the  United  States 
warship  Ino,  flying  the  American  flag.  She  heads  for 
the  anchorage  and  prepares  to  exchange  the  customary 
salute  of  twenty-one  guns  with  the  Moorish  forts.  Her 
captain  and  officers  come  ashore  in  uniform  and  proceed 
to  the  Consulate  and  the  Palace,  to  make  the  usual  calls 
of  ceremony.  The  Consul-General  joins  them. 

The  Prince  and  his  ministers  receive  them  with  courtesy. 


A  Moorish  Episode  225 

Their  requests  are  presented  and  are  acceded  to  as  entirely 
reasonable.  They  are,  that  the  Ino  shall  be  allowed  to 
land  thirty  armed  marines,  who  shall  march  the  prisoners 
from  the  Consulate  down  to  the  ship.  The  Moorish 
troops  will  quell  the  mob  and  accompany  the  prisoners 
to  the  beach. 

All  this  is  speedily  done,  within  an  hour  or  two.  The 
mob  resolves  itself  into  a  gaping  crowd  of  three  thousand 
spectators,  who  stand  gazing  at  the  departing  warship, 
carrying  away  those  troublesome  Americans. 

Then  comes  to  the  Consulate  a  scroll  fastened  with  red 
cord,  of  which  the  substance  is  this : 

"Praise  to  the  One  God! 

"To  the  Clever  and  Wise  Gentleman,  Consul-General 
for  the  American  Nation. 

"We  continue  to  make  inquiries  for  your  welfare.  We 
are  deeply  penetrated  with  the  expressions  of  gratitude 
made  use  of  at  your  interview  with  us  for  the  assistance 
we  rendered  you  in  removing  the  insults  offered  to  you 
by  the  Christian  subjects,  who  surrounded  the  consular 
residence,  thus  offering  indignity  to  the  American  flag. 

"We  request  you  to  express  to  your  government  our 
sentiments  of  good  will,  and  to  assure  them  that  the 
friendship  between  us  not  only  exists  and  continues, 
but  on  our  part  has  become  confirmed  and  consolidated 
by  time;  and  that  we  heartily  wish  them  the  victory 
(victorious  as  they  always  are)  over  those  who  have 
rebelled  against  them  and  peace. 
"EL  ABBAS, 

"Son  of  the  Prince  of  the  Believers. 

"May  he  rest  in  Glory." 

Out  of  the  maze  of  official  documents  and  personal 
statements,    the   story   is   gathered   as   here   presented. 
is 


226  A  Moorish  Episode 

Finally  it  fell  to  me,  as  acting  Secretary  of  State,  to  "end 
the  diplomatic  incident, "  and  close  the  correspondence,  by 
a  formal  dispatch  to  the  Consul-General,  expressing  our 
appreciation  and  reciprocation  of  Morocco's  friendship, 
and  adding: 

"Good  relations  between  the  two  countries  have  ex- 
isted too  long,  to  be  in  danger  of  disturbance  from  light 
causes;  and  serious  ones  are  not  likely  to  spring  up  between 
governments  whose  interest  and  whose  desire  it  is  that 
they  should  cherish  toward  each  other  good  will,  and 
practise  frankness  and  justice. 

"You  will  communicate  these  sentiments  to  the  Prince; 
and  at  the  same  time  assure  him,  that  his  wishes  for  our 
success  over  those  who  are  waging  an  unholy  war  against 
the  government  they  had  sworn  to  support  are  honourable 
alike  to  his  judgment  and  his  feelings ;  and  that  they  have 
given  much  satisfaction  to  the  President  and  people  of 
the  United  States. 

"  F.  W.  SEWARD, 

"  Acting  Secretary  of  State." 

After  his  release  from  Fort  Warren,  in  Boston  harbour, 
which  occurred  some  months  later,  Tunstall  came  to 
see  me  at  the  State  Department.  He  agreed  that  there 
was  a  spice  of  grim  humour  in  the  predicament  which 
unexpectedly  overtook  him  and  his  friend  at  Tangier. 
He  said  he  should  not  have  much  minded  being  captured 
as  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  that  he  was  not  quite  prepared 
to  forgive  "that  Ohio  Judge"  for  putting  him  in  irons. 

January  I,   1863. 

Signing  the  Emancipation  Proclamation.  New  Year's 
Day  is  always  a  busy  one  at  the  Executive  Mansion. 
The  Diplomatic  Corps,  in  official  uniform,  are  presented 


Signing  the  Emancipation  Proclamation  227 

to  the  President  by  the  Secretary  of  State.  Civil,  military, 
and  naval  officers  are  then  received  in  due  succession. 
Meanwhile  the  porch,  carriage  ways,  and  sidewalk  are 
gradually  filling  with  a  gathering  throng,  awaiting  the 
hour  of  two  o'clock,  when  the  doors  are  thrown  open  to 
the  general  public. 

Thursday,  January  1, 1863,  was  marked  by  an  event  that 
will  always  be  memorable  in  history.  Slaves,  in  all  the 
regions  remaining  in  rebellion,  were  to  be  on  that  day 
declared  entitled  to  freedom.  The  Emancipation  Pro- 
clamation had  been  duly  prepared  at  the  State  Depart- 
ment, and  was  ready  for  President  Lincoln's  signature. 

At  noon,  accompanying  my  father,  I  carried  the  broad 
parchment  in  a  large  portfolio  under  my  arm.  We, 
threading  our  way  through  the  throng  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  White  House,  went  upstairs  to  the  President's  room, 
where  Mr.  Lincoln  speedily  joined  us.  The  broad  sheet 
was  spread  open  before  him  on  the  Cabinet  table.  Mr. 
Lincoln  dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink,  and  then,  holding  it  a 
moment  above  the  sheet,  seemed  to  hesitate.  Looking 
around,  he  said: 

"I  never  in  my  life  felt  more  certain  that  I  was  doing 
right,  than  I  do  in  signing  this  paper.  But  I  have  been 
receiving  calls  and  shaking  hands  since  nine  o'clock  this 
morning,  till  my  arm  is  stiff  and  numb.  Now  this  signa- 
ture is  one  that  will  be  closely  examined,  and  if  they 
find  my  hand  trembled  they  will  say  'he  had  some  com- 
punctions.' But  anyway,  it  is  going  to  be  done." 

So  saying,  he  slowly  and  carefully  wrote  his  name 
at  the  bottom  of  the  proclamation.  The  signature  proved 
to  be  unusually  clear,  bold,  and  firm,  even  for  him,  and  a 
laugh  followed  at  his  apprehension.  My  father,  after 
appending  his  own  name,  and  causing  the  great  seal  to 
be  affixed,  had  the  important  document  placed  among  the 
archives.  Copies  were  at  once  given  to  the  press. 


228    A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 

May,  1863. 

A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  A  year  ago  this 
month  we  made  our  "Cruise  between  Two  Armies" 
in  a  naval  vessel.  This  year  we  are  to  make  a  visit  to 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  to  traverse  part  of 
the  same  region,  besides  visiting  other  points  not  then 
occupied. 

During  the  year,  both  our  own  army  and  that  of  the 
enemy  have  been  increased  and  reinforced.  Both  have 
extended  and  strengthened  their  fortifications.  General 
McClellan  was  then  endeavouring  to  reach  Richmond 
by  way  of  the  Peninsula.  Now,  General  Hooker  is  seek- 
ing to  reach  it  by  way  of  Fredericksburg  and  the  Rappa- 
hannock. 

Our  present  expedition  is,  in  some  respects,  a  diplomatic 
one.  The  Secretary  of  State  goes  down  to  visit  the 
troops,  and  to  confer  with  commanders.  Some  of  the 
members  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps  have  been  invited 
to  accompany  him,  in  order  that  they  may  better  under- 
stand the  situation,  and  report  to  their  respective  govern- 
ments concerning  the  condition  of  the  army  and  the 
magnitude  of  its  operations. 

Our  party  comprises  eleven — Baron  Gerolt,  the  Prussian 
Minister,  Baron  Grabow,  the  Secretary  of  Legation,  Mr. 
Schleiden,  the  Minister  from  the  Hanseatic  Cities,  Count 
Piper,  the  Swedish  Minister,  Judge  Goodrich,  Secretary 
of  Legation  at  Brussels,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Titian  R.  Peale, 
and  ourselves.  The  baggage,  consisting  of  carpet  bags, 
shawls  and  overcoats,  spy-glasses  and  maps,  was  packed 
with  us  into  three  carriages,  and  we  proceeded  to  the 
Arsenal  wharf  over  a  mile  of  very  rough  and  muddy 
road. 

At  the  Arsenal,  the  guard  received  us,  and  Colonel 
Ramsey,  the  commandant,  was  waiting  to  escort  us  to 
the  boat. 


A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac    229 

Sunday  evening. 

Our  boat  is  the  Carrie  Martin,  a  pretty  little  steamer 
that  used  formerly  to  run  between  New  York  and  Shrews- 
bury, and  is  now  used  as  a  government  dispatch  boat, 
carrying  General  Halleck,  General  Hooker,  or  the  Presi- 
dent, when  business  calls  them,  to  or  from  Washington 
and  the  army. 

We  have  passed  down  the  river,  inspecting  the  fleets 
of  steamers  and  schooners,  with  which  the  Potomac  is 
filled  nowadays.  Alexandria  and  Fort  Washington  look 
now  all  peaceable  and  quiet,  as  well  as  Mount  Vernon, 
where  the  bell  tolls  a  passing  salute  according  to  the  old 
river  custom. 

Acquia  Creek  then  came  into  view.  Here  was  a  busy 
scene — a  fleet  of  transports  at  anchor — tugs  and  steamers 
whistling  and  puffing  about — long  rows  of  new  unpainted 
wooden  buildings,  offices  and  storehouses  on  shore,  with 
piles  of  boxes,  bales,  and  barrels,  containing  ammunition, 
provisions,  muskets,  clothing,  shot  and  shell,  and  all  the 
supplies  of  a  great  army. 

Crowds  of  soldiers  and  labourers  thronged  the  wharf, 
sick  men  going  to  the  hospital,  well  men  discharged  or 
f  urloughed  or  returning  to  duty,  officers  superintending  the 
shipment  of  supplies;  and  all  shades  and  sizes  of  "con- 
trabands" in  all  manner  of  cast-off  clothes  of  everybody 
else,  some  at  work,  some  basking  in  the  sun. 

The  Quartermaster,  Captain  Hall,  had  a  train  waiting 
to  take  us  to  Falmouth.  The  railroad  is  a  military  one, 
and  has  only  freight  cars  and  locomotives.  Our  train 
consisted  of  one  of  the  latter,  and  one  of  the  former  with 
some  wooden  benches  in  it.  Upon  these  we  seated  our- 
selves and  were  whirled  rapidly  out  of  Acquia,  through 
cuttings  and  over  embankments  and  bridges  at  the  rate 
of  forty-five  miles  an  hour. 

The  country  presented  a  strange  sight.     Not  a  house, 


230    A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 

not  a  fence,  not  a  field,  not  a  bush,  nor  hardly  a  tree. 
Everywhere  the  bare  ground,  everywhere  on  the  hills, 
valleys,  and  plains,  one  vast  encampment.  Roads  crossing 
and  recrossing  each  other  in  ever}7  direction.  Groups 
of  tents,  stockades,  and  earthworks.  On  every  side, 
bodies  of  troops  on  the  march  or  at  drill.  Squads  of 
cavalry  galloping  to  and  fro,  long  lines  of  army  wagons, 
droves  of  mules  and  horses,  sentinels  pacing  before  camp- 
fires,  and  soldiers  scattered  and  rambling  about  every- 
where. This  was  the  scene  for  fifteen  miles,  which  we  made 
in  twenty  minutes.  Then  came  another  collection  of  new 
wooden  storehouses.  This  was  Falmouth  Station. 

We  descended  from  the  train,  and  got  into  a  couple  of 
large  ambulances,  which  took  us  another  half-mile  through 
camps  extending  apparently  without  limit,  up  to  General 
Hooker's  headquarters, — a  large  tent,  with  a  small  one 
behind  it.  The  General  and  his  Chief  of  Staff,  General 
Butterfield,  received  us  very  cordially,  and  made  us  im- 
mediately at  home,  by  assigning  us  a  couple  of  tents  near 
his  for  our  night's  quarters.  Mr.  Peale  had  brought  his 
camera,  and  while  we  were  talking,  photographed  the  scene. 

Then  we  made  an  excursion  down  to  the  river  bank, 
to  look  across  at  Fredericksburg.  It  lay  in  the  shadow, 
under  the  hill, — looking  very  quiet,  peaceable,  and  near. 
It  made  a  fine  picture  for  Mr.  Peale, — the  narrow  river 
in  front,  then  the  houses  and  steeples,  with  the  background 
of  lofty  heights  rising  in  the  rear,  covered  with  the  rebel 
tents  and  earthworks.  On  the  river  bank  just  below  us 
paced  the  Union  sentries;  and  on  the  other  side,  just 
opposite,  we  could  see  with  distinctness  the  rebel  sentries, 
also  pacing  their  rounds.  The  two  were  near  enough  to 
call  to  each  other  across  the  stream.  There  is  a  sort  of 
tacit  understanding  that  the  pickets  shall  not  fire  at  each 
other,  so  they  did  not  molest  us,  although  the  carriages 
and  the  squadron  of  lancers  which  accompanied  the 


A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac    231 

General  as  an  escort  must  have  attracted  attention,  for 
we  saw  groups  of  curious  observers,  like  ourselves,  gather 
on  the  wharves  of  Fredericksburg  to  look  at  us,  and  heard 
them  calling,  one  to  another,  though  we  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  words. 

Back  to  the  camp  again,  through  what  is  left  of  Fal- 
mouth, — two  houses  only,  the  Lacy  house  and  the  Phillips 
house.  There  were  two  or  three  more,  which  have  been 
destroyed.  We  supped  with  the  General  in  his  tent, 
sat  and  talked  till  the  drum  beat  for  "taps,"  and  then 
betook  ourselves  to  our  tents. 

The  three  ladies  had  one;  the  seven  gentlemen  of  the 
party  had  the  other.  The  beds  were  plank  floor,  the 
pillows  carpet-bags,  the  bedclothes  army  blankets.  The 
night  was  clear  and  warm,  and  we  slept  soundly. 

Monday. 

At  five  o'clock  this  morning,  the  drums  and  bugles  wake 
us  with  the  reveille.  Toilets  are  soon  made  in  camp. 
Then  we  strolled  through  the  encampment  and  back  to 
breakfast,  some  with  the  General,  and  others  with  officers 
of  his  staff. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  General  had  ordered  a  review  of 
General  Sickles's  corps,  and  columns  of  infantry,  cavalry, 
and  artillery  were  already  assembling.  We  rode  on  the 
field  at  that  hour,  and  found  a  magnificent  spectacle. 
The  long  lines  of  troops,  with  flags  waving  and  arms 
glistening  in  the  sun,  stretched  more  than  a  mile.  A 
cavalcade  of  officers  accompanied  the  General,  and,  as 
they  galloped  down  the  line,  were  received  with  drums 
beating,  colours  saluting,  and  thousands  of  troops  cheering. 
It  was  an  inspiring  sight. 

After  the  review  of  the  troops,  there  came  a  review  of 
a  wilderness  of  army  wagons  and  ambulances,  covering 
the  plain  in  long  rows,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 


232    A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 

On  our  way  back  we  asked  the  General  how  much 
space  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  occupied  in  its  encamp- 
ments. He  said  that  the  distance  around  it  was  one 
hundred  miles,  the  distance  through  it  from  one  side 
to  the  other  at  least  thirty.  Beside  the  army  corps  which 
we  had  seen  pass  in  review,  there  were  three  others  of 
equal  magnitude  that  today  were  marching  toward  the 
Rappahannock  to  make  the  crossing. 

After  the  review,  the  general  officers  of  the  corps  were 
assembled  at  Headquarters  for  presentation  and  con- 
ference. And  then  we  took  our  leave. 

The  train  landed  us  again  at  Acquia  Creek.  We 
re-embarked  on  the  Carrie  Martin,  and  proceeded  down 
the  river.  The  night  was  bright  moonlight,  and  we 
spent  a  good  deal  of  it  on  deck. 

Tuesday. 

This  morning  we  found  ourselves  in  the  York  River, 
and  at  ten  o'clock  reached  Yorktown.  Here  General 
Keyes  and  General  Rufus  King  came  on  board  to  welcome 
us,  and  took  us  on  shore  with  them. 

After  a  salute  of  fifteen  guns,  they  took  us  round  the 
fortifications  and  earthworks — the  labours  of  two  great 
armies.  They  are  vast  in  extent  and  look  impregnable. 
Then  we  went  to  see  the  great  gun  fired.  The  roar  was 
deafening,  and  we  saw  the  shell  thrown  from  it  burst 
three  miles  away  toward  the  Chesapeake. 

Then  we  went  through  the  town,  which  consists  of  but 
few  houses,  and  no  inhabitants  except  troops  and  "contra- 
bands." The  houses  are  old  and  quaint.  The  bricks 
for  some  of  them  were  brought  from  England.  Lord 
Cornwallis's  headquarters,  General  Washington's  head- 
quarters, and  the  Governor's  house  were  pointed  out. 
One  was  occupied  by  General  Keyes  and  one  by  General 
King.  Mrs.  Keyes  had  two  or  three  ladies  staying  with 


A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac    233 

her — officers'  wives  and  sisters.  The  General  gave  us 
lunch. 

Then  we  went  down  to  the  river,  and  across  to  Glouces- 
ter Point, — rode  around,  and  saw  the  earthworks  and  a 
review  of  the  garrison. 

Then  back  again,  and  found  at  the  wharf  a  gunboat 
of  the  York  River  squadron.  Captain  Gilliss,  her  com- 
mander, took  us  on  board,  gave  us  a  salute  of  fifteen 
guns,  and  then  a  cruise  up  the  river  five  or  six  miles, 
beyond  the  lines  of  the  army.  Here  he  experimented 
with  his  one  hundred  pounder,  throwing  shot  and  shell  at 
distant  points  on  the  shore.  Returning  we  fell  in  with  a 
fleet  of  oyster  boats,  and  got  two  or  three  barrels  of  the 
famous  York  River  oysters,  one  of  which  we  agreed  to 
take  to  the  President. 

We  took  leave  of  Yorktown  at  five  o'clock,  and  steamed 
on  down  the  bay.  Dinner  was  over,  and  it  was  quite  late 
in  the  evening  when  we  reached  Fortress  Monroe.  Here 
General  Dix  and  some  of  his  staff  came  on  board,  among 
them  a  Prussian  officer  who  had  been  a  protege  of  Baron 
Gerolt.  We  slept  on  board,  under  the  guns  of  the  fort. 

Wednesday. 

This  morning  General  Dix  took  the  Secretary  of  State 
with  him  on  an  excursion  to  visit  the  beleaguered  post 
of  Suffolk.  The  rest  of  us  went  on  shore  with  Colonel 
Ludlow  and  Dr.  Gilbert,  the  Medical  Director,  to  visit 
the  hospitals  and  the  ruins  of  the  village  of  Hampton. 
The  hospitals  are  very  like  those  of  Washington. 

Hampton  was,  before  the  war,  a  pretty  village,  but  it 
was  burnt  by  the  rebel  General  Magruder  in  1861.  It 
presents  an  odd  appearance  now.  The  "contrabands," 
who  number  several  thousands,  have  encamped  upon 
its  site.  They  have  cleared  away  the  rubbish,  and  then, 
going  out  into  the  adjacent  swamps,  have  cut  down  cypress 


234    A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 

trees,  which,  after  their  fashion,  they  have  split  into 
boards  and  shingles.  With  these  they  have  built  shanties 
to  live  in.  Of  course,  when  the  old  houses  were  burned, 
the  chimneys  were  left  standing.  Each  of  the  shanties  is 
ingeniously  built  around  one  of  these  chimneys,  and  the 
appearance  of  a  town  of  such  diminutive  houses,  with 
such  majestic  chimneys  towering  over  them,  is  funny 
enough. 

The  "contrabands"  were  all  neatly  dressed,  cheerful, 
and  comfortable.  They  are  employed  by  the  Govern- 
ment, and  receive  pay  and  rations.  The  most  striking 
ruin  is  that  of  the  old  English  church,  built  before  the 
Revolution,  and  surrounded  by  the  graves  of  British 
officers. 

Returning  on  board,  we  went  over  to  Norfolk,  which 
we  found  in  much  the  same  condition  as  last  year,  only 
much  neater,  thanks  to  military  supervision,  and  with 
a  little  more  business  stirring.  There  is  still  a  strong 
secession  feeling  there,  which  was  evinced  by  sour  looks 
and  suppressed  remarks,  as  we  walked  through  the  streets. 
We  called  on  General  Viele,  the  Military  Governor,  but 
did  not  find  him  at  home. 

Then  we  went  over  the  ruins  of  the  Gosport  Navy  Yard, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Elizabeth  River,  and  then 
back  to  Fortress  Monroe.  A  thunder-storm  came  up  in 
the  evening,  but  was  soon  over;  and  we  slept  quietly 
again  under  the  guns  of  the  fort. 

Thursday. 

This  morning  we  went  ashore,  and  paid  a  visit  to 
the  fortress.  It  is  a  strong  and  imposing  fortification, 
mounting  hundreds  of  guns,  and  embracing  seventy 
acres  within  its  massive  stone  walls.  It  is  the  largest 
single  work  in  this  country. 

Inside,  the  trees,  the  green  grass,  gravel  walks,  and  neat 


A  Visit  to  the  Army  of  the  Potomac    235 

houses  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  summer  resort  rather 
than  a  fort.  We  were  received  with  the  salute  of  the 
usual  fifteen  guns,  then  visited  General  Dix's  headquar- 
ters; then  returned  to  the  Carrie  Martin,  and  went  over 
to  the  Rip  Raps. 

This  is  a  stone  fortification  constructed  on  a  small  island, 
and  covering  the  whole  of  it.  The  walls  are  several  feet 
thick,  and  the  whole  affair,  island,  fort,  and  all,  looks  as  if 
it  was  carved  in  stone.  There  is  no  room  for  a  blade  of 
grass  to  grow.  It  is  unfinished,  and  the  workmen  are 
still  engaged  on  it.  The  ship  channel  runs  between 
it  and  Fortress  Monroe;  so  that  whatever  passes  will  be 
exposed  to  the  fire  of  both. 

Then  we  next  steamed  five  or  six  miles  up  the  James 
River,  to  visit  Admiral  Lee's  fleet,  lying  above  Newport 
News  Point.  The  Admiral  received  us  on  board  his 
flagship,  the  Minnesota,  with  the  usual  salute.  After 
passing  through  her  decks  and  looking  through  her  heavy 
armament,  we  went  on  board  the  Lehigh,  one  of  the  new 
"monitors"  in  the  squadron,  and  viewed  her  turret,  her 
little  pilot-house,  her  monster  gun,  her  compact  cabins 
under  water,  and  so  on.  The  ingenuity  and  strength  these 
vessels  display  seem  even  more  striking  when  seen  so 
closely.  The  Sangamon,  the  Galena,  and  the  Ossipee 
are  also  in  the  squadron.  We  did  not  go  on  board  of  them, 
but  exchanged  salutes  by  dipping  ensigns  and  waving 
hats  as  we  passed  them. 

Then  we  ran  into  Norfolk  to  take  in  a  supply  of  coal, 
thence  back  to  the  fort ;  and  so  ended  another  day. 


Friday. 

At  sunrise  this  morning,  we  started  on  our  way  home. 
It  was  a  clear  cloudless  day:  the  bay  as  calm  as  a  lake, 
and  the  air  like  summer.  We  devoted  the  entire  day  to 


236    An  Excursion  with  the  Diplomatic  Corps 

the  cruise  up  the  Chesapeake  and  the  Potomac,  through 
hundreds  of  vessels. 

Once  we  passed  through  a  fleet  of  forty  schooners,  all 
moving  in  the  same  direction,  and  near  together,  the 
white  sails  glistening  in  the  moonlight;  and  shortly  after, 
through  another  fleet  of  fifty  more,  riding,  black  and 
silent,  at  anchor.  The  clock  struck  ten  as  we  debarked 
once  more  at  the  Arsenal  wharf. 

An  Excursion  with  the  Diplomatic  Corps.  The  members 
of  the  Diplomatic  Corps  were  frequently  asked  by  their 
governments  as  to  whether  the  war,  so  long  protracted, 
was  not  beginning  to  exhaust  the  energies  of  the  com- 
batants. 

The  Secretary  of  State  had  often  told  them  that  they 
could  learn  little  of  the  true  state  of  the  country  by  spend- 
ing their  summer  vacations  at  Newport,  Cape  May, 
Saratoga,  and  other  places  of  fashionable  resort,  and  had 
often  advised  them  to  leave  the  seaboard  and  the  great 
cities,  and  visit  the  rural  regions  of  the  interior.  He 
saw  how  difficult  it  was  for  them  to  realize  that  the  country 
was  not  becoming  exhausted,  or  that  the  causes  which 
led  to  the  draft  riots  in  New  York  might  not  be  at  work 
in  every  town. 

When  he  invited  them  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit 
to  his  home,  in  Central  New  York,  "the  heart  of  the 
North,"  several  of  them  signified  that  they  would  go 
with  willingness  and  pleasure. 

Some  of  the  diplomatic  gentlemen  started  with  him  in  a 
special  car  from  Washington,  others  joined  the  party  at 
New  York.  Its  number  varied  at  different  stages  of  the 
journey,  but  Lord  Lyons,  the  British  Minister,  M.  Mercier, 
the  French  Minister,  Sefior  Tassara,  the  Spanish  Minister, 
Commander  Bertinatti,  the  Italian  Envoy,  Mr.  Schleiden, 
the  Minister  from  the  Hanseatic  Cities,  Mr.  Stoeckl, 


An  Excursion  with  the  Diplomatic  Corps    237 

the  diplomatic  representative  of  Russia,  Count  Piper, 
the  Swedish  Minister,  and  Mr.  Molina,  the  Central  Ameri- 
can representative,  continued  through  nearly  the  whole 
journey. 

They  visited  New  York  and  its  vicinity,  they  went  up 
the  Hudson,  then  through  the  Valley  of  the  Mohawk, 
then  over  the  hills  into  Otsego  County.  They  saw  Albany, 
Schenectady,  and  Little  Falls,  visited  Sharon  Springs  and 
Trenton  Falls;  they  spent  a  night  at  Cooperstown  and 
sailed  on  Otsego  Lake.  They  went  to  Utica,  Rome,  and 
Syracuse.  They  stopped  at  Auburn,  visited  Seneca  Falls 
and  Geneva,  traversed  Cayuga  and  Seneca  Lakes,  saw 
the  mills  and  factories  of  Rochester,  and  the  harbour  of 
Buffalo  swarming  with  lake  craft,  and  having  its  elevators 
in  full  operation. 

Hospitalities  were  showered  upon  them,  more  than 
they  could  accept.  Serenades  greeted  them  in  the 
evening,  with  kindly  invitations  for  the  morrow.  But 
every  day's  ride  was  a  volume  of  instruction.  Hun- 
dreds of  factories  with  whirring  wheels,  thousands  of 
acres  of  golden  harvest  fields,  miles  of  railway  trains 
laden  with  freight,  busy  fleets  on  rivers,  lakes,  and 
canals,  all  showed  a  period  of  unexampled  commercial 
activity  and  prosperity. 

Then  the  flag  flying  everywhere,  the  drum  heard 
everywhere,  the  recruiting  offices  open  and  busy;  the 
churches,  the  hospitals,  the  commissions,  and  the  benevo- 
lent associations,  all  labouring  for  the  soldiers'  care  and 
comfort;  all  attested  the  resources  of  an  Empire,  and  the 
self-reliant  patriotism  of  a  great  Republic. 

One  of  the  ministers,  writing  to  his  government,  said, 
"The  resources  of  the  Northern  States,  instead  of  being 
exhausted,  seem  practically  inexhaustible." 

A  photograph  of  the  party  on  the  rocks  at  Trenton 
Falls  hangs  in  my  library,  and  another  at  Auburn. 


238     Changing  the  Commanding  General 

Changing  the  Commanding  General.  Military  men  all 
know  that  success  or  defeat  in  battle  is  a  part  of  "the 
fortune  of  war."  The  best  of  generals  may  sometimes 
encounter  a  reverse,  and  sometimes  a  defeated  commander 
may,  by  experience  and  opportunity,  retrieve  his  ill  for- 
tune by  subsequent  victory. 

But,  in  our  Civil  War,  events  were  influenced  largely 
by  Congress,  the  press,  and  public  opinion.  A  lost  battle 
was  immediately  followed  by  a  clamour  for  a  change 
of  commanders.  As  Postmaster-General  Blair  once  re- 
marked in  Cabinet  meeting,  "Success  in  battle  may  not 
be  the  best  of  tests  of  a  general's  capacity,  but  it  is  the 
one  the  public  knows  of  and  has  the  power  to  apply.  So 
it  is  the  one  usually  adopted." 

After  Fredericksburg,  Burnside  was  the  first  to  ask  to 
be  relieved  of  his  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac, 
and  after  Chancellorsville  Hooker  followed  his  example. 

There  were  several  anxious  consultations  in  Cabinet,  as 
to  who  the  next  commander  should  be.  It  was  believed 
that  one  of  the  corps  commanders  would  be  the  best 
and  most  expedient  appointment.  But  which  one? 
All  had  now  proved  themselves  tried,  capable,  and  experi- 
enced soldiers,  and  all,  so  far  as  public  opinion  in  and  out 
of  the  army  indicated,  seemed  to  be  regarded  as  hav- 
ing the  necessary  qualifications  for  commander-in-chief. 
Burnside,  Hooker,  Hancock,  Howard,  Reynolds,  Meade, 
Sickles,  Couch,  Heintzelman,  all  had  warm  friends  and 
admirers.  Among  the  members  of  the  Cabinet  there  were 
differing  views,  perhaps  each  somewhat  influenced  by 
personal  friendship. 

"But  what  do  you  say,  Mr.  Secretary  of  War?"  said 
one  of  his  colleagues.  "You  best  know  them  all,  and 
your  judgment  should  be  the  controlling  one." 

Mr.  Stanton  paused  before  replying;  "Well,  I  think  on 
the  whole  I  should  prefer  Meade." 


Changing  the  Commanding  General    239 

" Meade?  "  was  the  reply.  "  Have  we  seen  or  heard  much 
of  him  here  in  Washington?  Who  are  his  sponsors? 
Seems  to  me  we  know  less  of  him  than  of  any  of  the 
others." 

Stanton  looked  sharply  at  the  speaker  through  his 
spectacles,  and  then,  with  a  laugh,  said,  "Perhaps  that  is 
the  reason  I  like  him.  No,  he  has  no  backers,  and  nobody 
is  urging  him  for  the  place.  He  does  not  come  to  Wash- 
ington to  ask  for  transfers  or  assignments  or  special 
privileges.  He  has  his  own  record.  He  sticks  to  his 
work,  does  it,  and  does  it  well." 

"Don't  you  suppose  he  has  aspirations  like  the  rest?" 

"I  rather  think,"  said  Stanton,  "he  expects  to  see 
Reynolds  chosen,  and  would  prefer  him  first,  and  any  one 
else  afterwards." 

Ultimately,  the  President  and  all  the  members  present 
agreed  that  Stanton's  judgment  should  be  accepted,  and 
that  Meade  should  be  at  once  notified. 

There  was  reason  for  haste,  for  battles  were  imminent. 
Lee's  army  was  marching  northward  with  evident  purpose 
of  invading  Maryland  or  Pennsylvania.  The  Army  of  the 
Potomac  was  marching  in  a  parallel  direction  with  it, 
but  on  an  "interior  line, "  thereby  protecting  Washington 
and  Baltimore,  and  keeping  in  readiness  to  repel  the 
threatened  invasion,  wherever  and  in  whatever  form  it 
should  be  made. 

General  Hardie  of  the  War  Department  was  dispatched 
to  inform  Meade.  The  Secretary  of  War  supplied  him 
with  orders  and  instructions,  and  ordered  a  special  engine 
and  car  to  take  him  as  far  as  possible.  Then  he  was  to 
find  such  conveyance  as  he  could  for  the  rest  of  the  way. 
Railroads  and  all  other  roads  are  more  or  less  demoralized 
and  broken  in  war  time. 

Hardie  had  various  delays,  which  prevented  him  from 
reaching  Frederick  till  long  after  dark.  He  had  donned 


240    Changing  the  Commanding  General 

civilian's  dress,  to  avoid  observation,  but  this  very  fact 
added  to  his  trouble  in  getting  through  parties  of  obstrep- 
erous soldiery.  When  at  last  he  found  a  horse  and 
buggy  to  drive  to  Meade's  headquarters,  which  were  some 
miles  outside  of  Frederick,  it  was  after  midnight.  The 
guards  had  been  set  for  the  night,  and  they  were  not 
ready  to  admit  a  suspicious  stranger,  even  when  he  claimed 
to  be  an  official  with  a  message  to  the  General.  However, 
at  last  he  was  ushered  into  General  Meade's  tent,  and 
found  the  General  half  dressed,  lying  on  his  camp  bed 
asleep. 

"Is  that  you,  Hardie?" 

"Yes,  General,  just  come  from  Washington." 

"Something  important  up?" 

"Yes,  General,  bad  news  for  you.  Better  get  up  and 
hear  it." 

General  Meade  arose  and  commenced  putting  on  the 
rest  of  his  fatigue  uniform. 

"Bad  news,  you  say?     What  is  it?" 

"You  are  going  to  lose  the  command  of  your  army 
corps,  General." 

The  General  was  silent  a  few  moments,  as  he  was 
putting  on  his  coat.  Then,  turning  around,  he  said: 

"Do  you  know,  Hardie,  I  am  not  very  much  surprised. 
When  I  saw  so  many  heads  around  me  coming  off,  I 
rather  wondered  whether  mine  might  not  go  next.  Who 
do  they  put  in  my  place?" 

"Don't  know  yet.  Probably  your  ranking  division 
commander." 

"And  what  do  they  do  with  me?" 

"You — you  are  to  take  command  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac!" 

" What? "  exclaimed  the  astounded  General.  "Are  you 
joking?  Are  you  in  earnest?" 

When  the  General  was  convinced  that  the  news  was 


Changing  the  Commanding  General    241 

true,  he  was  by  no  means  elated.  He  had  no  desire  for  the 
heavy  responsibility  thus  devolving  upon  him.  He  said 
he  was  too  ignorant  of  the  positions  and  dispositions  of 
the  different  army  corps.  He  had  thought  that  if  Hooker 
should  be  relieved,  Reynolds  would  take  his  place.  Hardie 
was  able  to  assure  him  that  Secretary  Stanton  had  fore- 
seen his  reluctance,  and  therefore  his  orders  had  been 
so  explicit  and  almost  peremptory.  The  change  was  to  be 
made  and  made  at  once,  without  postponement  or  delay. 

Meade  said  half-seriously,  half -jokingly,  "Well,  I've 
been  tried  and  condemned  without  a  hearing,  so  I  suppose 
I  must  submit." 

He  insisted,  however,  that  he  must  reserve  his  accept- 
ance till  he  had  had  a  conference  with  the  other  corps 
commanders.  It  was  essential  to  success  in  the  campaign 
that  there  should  be  harmony  and  co-operation  between 
them  all.  Discord  would  be  fatal.  His  own  desire  was 
not  to  assume  dictatorial  powers,  but  to  have  full  and 
frequent  consultation  with  the  others,  over  the  army's 
movements. 

The  conferences  were  held.  The  other  generals, 
according  to  Hardie's  report,  were  less  surprised  than 
Meade  had  been.  While  some  of  them  evidently  were  of 
opinion  that  the  appointment  might  as  well  have  come  to 
them  as  to  him,  yet,  on  the  whole,  they  were  better 
satisfied  with  his  selection  than  they  might  have  been  with 
some  other.  Of  course,  they  all  agreed  to  give  him  their 
best  counsel  and  hearty  co-operation  in  the  management 
of  the  campaign, — a  pledge  that  was  faithfully  carried 
out,  and  which  resulted  in  the  master  stroke  of  the  cam- 
paign that  has  made  the  name  of  Gettysburg  immortal. 

The  story  of  Hardie's  night  ride  and  interview  is  the 
one  that  was  told  in  Washington  official  circles.  Very 
probably,  it  is  incorrect  in  several  details,  but  its  general 
tenor  is  now  accepted  as  history. 

id 


242  Altered  Aspect  of  the  War 

1 863  and  1 864. 

Altered  Aspect  of  the  War.  The  great  victories  at 
Gettysburg  and  Vicksburg  and  Port  Hudson  mark  the 
beginning  of  a  new  phase  of  the  war.  Public  sentiment 
in  regard  to  it  is  changed  and  confident.  The  Mississippi 
is  now  opened  to  trade  throughout  its  whole  length. 
There  is  no  longer  any  probability  of  an  attempted 
invasion  of  the  free  States.  The  Confederacy  is  now 
confined  within  definite  limits,  which  will  contract  and 
not  expand.  So  there  is  a  reasonable  hope  that  the  war 
will  be  ended  and  the  Union  restored  within  the  space 
of  a  year  or  two.  On  the  other  hand,  the  public  has  now 
no  illusions  in  regard  to  a  speedy  termination  of  hostilities. 
The  Confederacy  is  still  a  power,  composed  of  men  of  our 
own  race,  who  are  as  tenacious  of  their  opinions,  as  we  are 
of  ours.  So  we  have  settled  down  to  consider  the  war  as  a 
lasting  one. 

We  have  become  inured  to  war  and  its  experiences. 
We  regard  its  chances  and  casualties  as  deplorable,  but 
inevitable.  We  have  grown  accustomed  to  the  long 
list  of  the  killed  and  wounded  in  the  battles.  Not  that 
this  implies  any  callousness  to  this  great  amount  of  human 
suffering.  Every  conceivable  expedient  is  eagerly  seized 
upon  to  relieve  the  dangers  and  hardships  of  the  soldiers 
and  sailors.  Hospitals  are  multiplied,  nurses  are  eager 
to  volunteer.  Commissions  are  organized  to  furnish 
the  soldiers  and  sailors  not  only  with  comforts  but  with 
luxuries.  Fairs  and  festivals  are  held  in  all  the  cities,  for 
the  benefit  of  all  who  are  fighting  for  the  Flag.  Everyone 
sends  his  gift  or  contribution.  Private  families  are 
busily  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  garments.  Knitting 
of  socks  is  going  on  in  every  loyal  household  throughout 
the  North. 

And  all  this  laudable  work  is  attended  with  prosperity. 
Business  is  thriving.  Commerce  is  showing  unexampled 


Washington  during  Early's  Raid       243 

activity.  Every  trade  and  occupation  is  finding  employ- 
ment. The  Government  is  spending  a  million  of  dollars 
a  day  and  "greenbacks"  are  plentiful. 

The  military  telegraph  has  now  been  extended  to  every 
army  in  the  field.  Its  wires  centre  in  the  War  Depart- 
ment, now  the  focus  of  interest.  Here  sits  the  master 
spirit  of  the  contest,  Edwin  M.  Stanton.  Day  by  day, 
and  hour  by  hour,  he  is  on  the  watch  for  news  from  the 
front,  and  for  opportunities  to  send  forward  reinforce- 
ments, arms,  and  supplies  wherever  they  are  needed. 
Stern  and  inflexible  in  discharge  of  his  duty,  he  rarely 
leaves  the  Department.  Impatient  of  visitors  who  come 
to  seek  personal  ends,  he  is  always  ready  to  respond  to 
the  calls  of  "the  service"  or  the  country. 

His  Cabinet  colleagues  are  his  frequent  callers,  and  the 
President  spends  hours  in  listening  to  the  intelligence  or 
demands  ticked  off  from  the  wires.  Here,  they  learn 
how  Gilmore  is  shelling  the  fortifications  of  Charleston 
with  long  range  artillery  five  miles  away,  how  Burnside 
is  capturing  Knoxville,  how  Rosecrans  is  before  Chat- 
tanooga, how  Franklin  is  advancing  towards  Sabine 
Pass,  how  Banks  has  encountered  a  check  in  his  march 
through  Louisiana,  but  has  retrieved  it,  and  is  marching 
on  Shreveport,  how  varying  conflicts  are  resulting  in  Flor- 
ida, Mississippi,  and  Alabama,  and  how  Admiral  Farragut 
is  preparing  for  active  operations  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

1864. 

Washington  during  Early's  Raid.  It  was  in  July, 
1864,  that  a  Confederate  movement  in  the  Shenandoah 
Valley  was  developed.  A  column  reported  as  thirty 
or  forty  thousand  strong,  under  Breckenridge,  passed  the 
Potomac  fords  above  Harpers  Ferry,  crossed  the  South 
Mountain,  and  entered  Frederick  in  Maryland  on  Saturday 
the  9th. 


244       Washington  during  Early's  Raid 

It  was  evident  that  the  Confederates,  hard  pressed 
by  General  Grant's  campaign  in  "the  Wilderness," 
had  taken  the  bold  step  of  making  an  attack  on  Washing- 
ton from  the  rear,  where  the  fortifications  were  weakest. 

Washington,  in  its  fancied  security,  had  sent  forward 
nearly  all  its  available  troops  to  aid  General  Grant.  If 
the  attacking  column  could  reach  there  before  reinforce- 
ments could  be  sent  back  by  General  Grant,  it  might 
result  in  a  surprise,  and  even  a  capture  of  the  capital. 
General  Early  was  reported  to  be  in  command  of  the 
movement. 

Major-General  Wallace  with  about  seven  thousand 
men  hastily  drawn  from  Baltimore  met  the  whole  or  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  enemy's  force  at  the  bridge 
at  Monocacy,  which  opened  a  way  equally  to  Washington 
or  Baltimore.  A  deadly  conflict  was  maintained  from 
nine  in  the  morning  till  five  in  the  afternoon.  The 
Union  forces,  overpowered  by  double  their  number, 
gave  way  and  retreated  to  Ellicott's  Mills. 

My  younger  brother  William  H.  was  now  in  command 
of  the  Ninth  New  York  Artillery.  His  regiment  was  a 
part  of  the  force  sent  out  to  check  the  Confederate  invasion. 

Early,  the  Confederate  commander,  had  moved  with 
rapidity  and  secrecy.  General  Wallace,  the  Union  com- 
mander, found  himself  confronted  with  this  overwhelming 
force.  He  could  not  drive  the  enemy  back,  but  every 
hour  he  could  delay  their  advance  was  important,  since 
it  gave  time  to  put  Washington  into  a  condition  for 
defence. 

My  brother's  regiment  fought  bravely  nearly  all  day, 
but,  overpowered  at  last,  was  forced  to  retreat,  while  its 
Colonel,  wounded,  narrowly  escaped  capture.  His  horse 
was  shot  under  him  and  fell  upon  him.  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Taft,  who  stood  near  by,  at  the  same  moment 
lost  his  leg  by  the  explosion  of  a  shell.  When  the  final 


Washington  during  Early 's  Raid       245 

order  was  given  to  retire,  Colonel  Seward  had  little  more 
than  a  colour  guard  left.  Crippled  and  surrounded  by  the 
enemy,  he  escaped  with  great  difficulty. 

With  the  help  of  one  of  his  men,  he  reached  a  piece  of 
woods.  Mounting  a  stray  mule,  and  using  his  pocket 
handkerchief  for  a  bridle,  he  succeeded  after  a  painful 
ride  of  many  miles,  during  the  night,  in  rejoining  the 
forces  which  had  then  made  a  stand  at  Ellicott's  Mills. 

It  was  now  evident  that  the  rebel  movement  was  no 
mere  raid,  but  a  skilfully  arranged  strategic  advance, 
to  suddenly  attack  the  Federal  city  on  its  weakest  side. 

When  the  news  spread  about  in  Washington  that  a 
rebel  army  was  within  a  few  miles  of  the  city,  and  that 
there  was  no  longer  any  Federal  force  to  oppose  its  advance, 
there  was  general  alarm.  Farmers  living  in  the  path  of 
the  coming  enemy  fled  to  the  city  for  refuge.  By  every 
northern  road  their  wagons  were  coming  in,  loaded  with 
their  household  goods,  accompanied  by  cattle  hastily 
gathered  and  driven  before  them. 

Soon  clouds  of  smoke  in  the  northern  sky  showed  that 
the  abandoned  dwellings  and  barns  had  been  fired  by 
the  rebel  scouting  or  marauding  parties. 

Presently  came  intelligence  that  "Silver  Spring," 
Francis  P.  Blair's  beautiful  country  seat,  had  been  made 
the  headquarters  of  the  rebel  Generals  Early  and  Brecken- 
ridge.  Then  that  the  house  of  his  son  Montgomery 
Blair,  the  Postmaster-General,  had  been  fired  and  burnt 
to  the  ground. 

Meanwhile  the  military  authorities  were  making  every 
possible  preparation  for  defence.  The  forts  were  manned 
by  invalid  soldiers  and  militia  volunteers.  Rifle  pits 
between  different  fortifications  were  hastily  made.  The 
slender  force  at  the  disposal  of  the  Government  was 
distributed  to  the  best  advantage. 

Railway    and    telegraphic    communication    with    the 


246       Washington  during  Early 's  Raid 

north  was  again  cut  off,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  experiences 
of  1 86 1  were  to  be  repeated.  But  this  time  the  popular 
feeling  was  very  different.  There  was  no  gloom  nor 
consternation.  Three  years  of  war  had  inured  even  the 
noncombatants  to  military  vicissitudes.  The  citizens 
could  even  appreciate  the  grim  humour  of  their  predica- 
ment, in  being  thus  suddenly  attacked  from  the  north, 
after  having  sent  their  available  troops  to  the  south. 
Succour  was  known  to  be  coming  from  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  in  war  steamers  and  transports.  But  would 
it  arrive  before  the  rebels  were  in  the  streets?  It  was  not 
believed  that  the  rebel  troops  could  long  hold  the  city, 
if  they  should  take  it.  But  they  might  inflict  irreparable 
damage  by  burning  public  buildings,  destroying  records 
and  military  stores,  capturing  valuable  prisoners,  and 
seriously  damaging  the  prestige  of  the  national  cause 
by  even  a  day's  occupation  of  the  capital. 

One  of  the  family  letters,  written  at  the  time,  graphically 
describes  the  events  in  Washington : 

"During  Saturday  evening,  we  had  been  hearing  succes- 
sive reports  of  the  battle,  the  disaster,  and  the  retreat  of 
General  Wallace  from  Monocacy.  The  Secretary  had 
just  returned  from  the  War  Department  at  midnight, 
when  Mr.  Stanton  himself  came  over  and  called  him  up, 
to  tell  him  of  the  dispatch  saying  that  William  was 
wounded  and  a  prisoner. 

"None  of  us  slept  much  the  rest  of  the  night,  and  it 
was  arranged  that  Augustus  should  go  over  in  the  first 
train  to  Baltimore  to  make  inquiries. 

"All  the  morning  the  city  was  filled  with  panic  rumours 
of  the  advances  of  the  rebels  in  every  direction,  and 
troops  were  organized  and  posted  to  meet  the  anticipated 
attack.  The  teamsters  and  other  employees  of  the 
Quartermaster's  Department  were  armed,  equipped,  and 
mustered  into  regiments,  volunteers  were  accepted,  horses 


Washington  during  Early 's  Raid        247 

impressed,  and  the  streets  were  full  of  bustle  with  the 
marching  of  different  bodies  of  troops. 

"Meanwhile  visitors  were  constantly  coming  in  to 
make  inquiry,  or  to  bring  reports  said  to  have  come  from 
the  field.  At  three  o'clock  a  telegram  from  Augustus 
assured  us  that  though  wounded  William  was  not  a 
prisoner.  By  that  time  the  citizens  began  to  get  reassured, 
and  matters  to  look  more  cheerful,  as  the  enemy  had  not 
pursued  Wallace,  had  not  attacked  the  railroad,  and 
had  not  presented  themselves  anywhere  in  force. 

"On  coming  home  we  learned  that  a  battalion  of  the 
Ninth  Artillery,  just  arrived  from  Petersburg,  had  marched 
up  the  avenue  to  the  fortifications.  We  followed  them 
in  the  carriage,  and  on  the  Tennallytown  road  began  to 
overtake  the  stragglers  in  the  rear  of  the  column.  We 
took  in  two  of  them,  and  presently  overtook  the  main 
body,  who  had  halted  to  rest  before  taking  their  positions 
in  the  forts.  They  were  dusty  and  tired,  but  brown  and 
hearty — all  glad  to  see  us,  and  to  get  back  to  their  old 
camping  ground. 

"Their  first  inquiry  was  about  their  Colonel,  of  whose 
reported  capture  they  had  heard.  They  lavished  praises 
on  him  for  his  bravery  and  his  conduct  with  them  before 
Petersburg,  and  were  delighted  to  find  that  it  was  not 
true  that  he  had  been  taken. 

"Major  Snyder  was  in  command  of  the  battalion. 
We  found  him  and  all  our  other  acquaintances,  and  indeed 
found  none  who  were  not.  We  stayed  half  an  hour  while 
they  made  their  coffee,  and  fought  their  battles  over 
again,  and  left  them  in  excellent  spirits. 

"On  reaching  home  at  eight  o'clock,  we  found  General 
Wallace's  dispatch  about  William.  We  think  he  will  be 
here  today  or  tomorrow.  The  whole  regiment  has  now 
been  ordered  here  to  garrison  the  forts,  as  they  are 
trained  artillerists.  Two  battalions  went  to  Baltimore, 


248       Washington  during  Early's  Raid 

and  so  were  in  the  battle,  but  they  will  now  come 
here. 

"With  the  preparations  now  made,  and  the  strength 
we  are  hourly  gaining,  the  military  authorities  are  confi- 
dent not  only  of  resisting,  but  perhaps  of  overpowering  the 
rebel  force  and  capturing  it.  The  country  round  is  full 
of  the  raiding  and  scouting  parties  of  their  cavalry." 

Washington  was  well  fortified.  A  triple  girdle  of  earth- 
works now  surrounded  it.  The  open  space  between  the 
fortifications  and  the  region  of  streets,  shops,  and  dwellings 
was  thickly  dotted  with  hospitals,  mostly  substantial 
wooden  or  canvas  structures,  with  all  modern  appliances 
for  ventilation  and  comfort.  An  army  of  maimed  or 
convalescent  soldiers  on  a  sunny  day  could  be  seen  resting 
or  lounging  on  the  turf  around  their  doors. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  day  when  the  enemy's  advance 
guard  was  expected,  my  father  and  I  drove  out  with 
President  Lincoln  to  Fort  Stevens,  near  the  junction  of 
the  roads  running  from  Seventh  and  Fourteenth  Streets. 
As  this  was  an  exposed  point,  it  would  probably  be  the 
first  attacked. 

A  barricade  had  been  thrown  across  the  turnpike. 
General  McCook  was  in  command.  A  crowd  of  officers 
gathered  round  the  carriage,  to  welcome  and  salute  the 
President.  He  alighted,  went  up  into  the  fort,  and 
was  standing  on  the  parapet  looking  over  the  long  stretch 
of  comparatively  level  country,  when  a  soldier  touched 
his  arm  and  begged  him  to  descend,  "for  the  bullets  of 
the  rebel  sharpshooters  may  begin  to  come  in  any  minute 
from  the  woods  yonder." 

The  caution  was  timely,  for  in  a  few  moments  the 
prediction  was  verified,  and  a  bullet  or  two  whistling  over 
the  sentry's  head  showed  that  the  riflemen  "were  getting 
the  range." 

A  portion  of  the  Sixth  Corps  and  two  divisions  of  the 


The  Year's  Record  249 

Nineteenth,  which  General  Grant  had  sent  up  for  the 
relief  of  Washington,  were  now  arriving  and  debarking 
at  the  wharves.  Detachments  were  hastily  formed  and 
marched  up  to  the  aid  of  the  threatened  forts.  One 
arrived  at  Fort  Stevens  while  the  President  was  there. 

Thrown  out  as  skirmishers,  the  men  soon  came  in  sight 
of  the  rebel  scouts,  who,  recognizing  the  well-known  cross, 
which  was  the  badge  of  the  Sixth  Corps,  informed  their 
commanders  that  the  Federal  reinforcements  had  arrived. 

On  Monday  and  Tuesday,  the  space  between  the 
fortifications  and  the  attacking  force  was  a  scene  of  un- 
interrupted skirmishes  between  the  cavalry  and  sharp- 
shooters of  the  respective  parties. 

A  force  of  two  thousand  men  sent  out  from  Fort  Stevens 
on  Tuesday  evening  assaulted  the  enemy  with  spirit  and 
decision.  In  this  engagement  each  party  lost  about  three 
hundred  killed  and  wounded. 

That  night  the  enemy's  sharpshooters  were  replaced 
by  cavalry  pickets,  and  on  Wednesday  morning  their 
cavalry  disappeared.  At  the  same  time  the  rebels  with- 
drew from  the  vicinity  of  Baltimore.  A  column  of 
considerable  strength  was  dispatched  on  the  I3th  to 
pursue  the  enemy  across  the  Potomac. 

December,  1864. 

The  Year's  Record.  We  are  at  the  end  of  another 
year  of  the  war.  This  is  New  Year's  Eve.  A  crowd 
of  holiday  merrymakers  has  just  gone  by,  singing 
the  plaintive  strains  of  the  latest  war  song, — "When  this 
cruel  war  is  over."  When  will  it  be  over?  Will  it  last 
another  year,  or  more?  Looking  back  over  the  events 
of  the  year  just  closed,  they  seem  of  great,  even  of  amazing 
importance : 

The  appointment  of  Lieutenant-General  Grant  to  the 
chief  command  of  the  armies ;  his  coming  to  Washington 


250  The  Year's  Record 

and  reorganizing  the  Army  of  the  Potomac ;  his  order  for  a 
general  advance,  in  April,  of  all  the  armies;  his  taking 
the  field  and  driving  Lee's  troops  from  their  intrench- 
ments  and  pursuing  them  into  the  "Wilderness";  the 
long  and  bloody  campaign  in  the  "Wilderness";  the 
sanguinary  battles  of  Spottsylvania  and  Cold  Harbour; 
the  junction  with  the  forces  of  General  Butler  at  Bermuda 
Hundred ;  and  the  preparations  for  a  long  siege  of  Peters- 
burg and  of  Richmond,  at  which  points  the  insurgent 
forces  are  now  concentrated.  Then  the  advance  of 
General  Sherman,  pursuing  Johnston's  army  to  the 
Chattahoochee ;  the  flanking  of  the  enemy  on  Kenesaw 
Mountain;  the  battle  near  Atlanta  where  McPherson 
lost  his  life;  the  fall  of  Atlanta;  and  the  historic 
march  of  Sherman  through  Georgia,  and  the  capture  of 
Savannah. 

Then  the  exploits  of  the  navy:  the  sinking  of  the 
Alabama  by  the  Kearsarge,  under  Captain  Winslow;  the 
great  naval  engagement  and  victory  by  Farragut  in 
Mobile  Bay.  Then  the  cavalry  successes  of  Sheridan, 
Averill,  and  Kilpatrick, — Sheridan's  famous  ride,  and  his 
victory  at  Cedar  Creek.  Then  the  failure  of  Early's 
Raid,  and  the  clearing  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley, — all 
point  to  an  early  termination  of  the  war. 

Not  less  significant  is  the  result  of  the  Presidential 
campaign, — the  nomination  and  re-election  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,  showing  that  the  country  stands  behind  him, 
determined  to  prosecute  the  war  to  the  end. 

My  father  and  I,  in  walking  to  the  State  Department, 
every  morning  find  that  the  headquarters  of  General  Augur, 
the  District  commander,  has  a  crowd  of  forty  or  fifty 
persons  in  front  of  it.  On  inquiry,  we  learn  that  some 
of  these  are  prisoners,  but  the  majority  are  deserters 
from  the  Confederate  ranks,  who  have  come  in,  given  up 
their  arms,  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance,  and  are  to  be 


The  End  of  the  War  251 

forwarded  by  the  Government  during  the  day  to  Philadel- 
phia, where  they  will  find  peaceful  employment. 

My  father  remarks,  "That  means  a  company  a  day, — 
a  regiment  a  week, — a  brigade  a  fortnight.  How  long  can 
any  army  stand  such  a  drain  upon  its  resources,  when 
there  are  no  new  recruits  or  conscripts  to  replenish 
it?" 

April,  1865. 

The  End  of  the  War.  When  my  father  was  disabled 
by  his  serious  carriage  accident,  his  official  functions  were 
devolved  upon  me.  As  Acting  Secretary,  I  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing, as  the  closing  "Circular  on  the  military  situation " : 

"The  past  week  has  been  characterized  by  a  rapid  and 
uninterrupted  series  of  military  successes,  more  moment- 
ous in  their  results  than  any  that  have  preceded  them 
during  the  war.  Richmond  and  Petersburg,  with  all 
their  communications  and  vast  quantities  of  supplies 
and  material  of  war,  have  been  captured  by  our  armies. 
The  insurrection  has  no  longer  a  seat  of  its  pretended 
Government.  Its  so-called  officials  are  fugitives.  Its 
chief  army,  after  being  reduced  by  repeated  defeats  and 
demoralization  to  less  than  one  third  of  its  former  numbers, 
has  been  retreating,  closely  pursued  and  hemmed  in  by 
the  victorious  forces  of  the  Union,  and  encountering 
fresh  losses  at  every  step  of  its  flight,  until  the  triumph  of 
the  national  armies  finally  culminated  in  the  surrender 
of  General  Lee  and  the  whole  insurgent  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  to  Lieutenant-General  Grant  yesterday  afternoon, 
at  half -past  four  o'clock. 

"Henceforth  it  is  evident  that  the  war,  if  protracted, 
can  never  resume  its  former  character.  Organized  opera- 
tions of  campaign  or  siege,  carried  on  by  disciplined  and 
effective  armies,  are  no  longer  possible  for  the  insurgents. 
Depredations  by  marauding  gangs,  and  defence  of  remote 


252  The  End  of  the  War 

and  isolated  inland  fastnesses,  may,  perhaps,  still  be 
continued,  but  even  these  can  endure  but  for  a  time. 

"Not  the  least  significant  feature  of  these  triumphs 
is  the  reception  extended  by  the  inhabitants  to  the 
advancing  armies  of  the  Union,  their  entire  acquiescence, 
and,  in  many  instances,  their  apparently  sincere  rejoicings 
at  the  return  of  its  protecting  authority  over  the  insurgent 
district. 

"The  insurrection  has  now  no  port  or  access  to  the  sea; 
no  fixed  seat  of  its  pretended  Government;  no  coherent 
civil  administration;  no  army  that  is  not,  in  consequence 
of  repeated  defeats,  rapidly  dissolving  into  fragments; 
and  the  only  ships  that  assume  to  carry  its  flag  are  those 
foreign-built  vessels,  which,  from  the  day  their  keels  were 
laid  on  neutral  soil,  have  never  ventured  to  approach 
within  hundreds  of  miles  of  the  scene  of  the  insurrection; 
and  have  only  derived  their  ability  to  rob  and  plunder 
from  the  concession  to  them  of  belligerent  privileges,  by 
powers  which  have  repeatedly  assured  us  of  their  dis- 
position to  be  neutral  in  the  strife." 

Next,  was  the  preparation  of  two  proclamations  for  the 
President's  signature,  giving  notice  of  the  changed 
aspect  of  affairs  as  regarded  foreign  nations.  One  of 
these  announced  that,  as  the  Southern  ports  had  been 
recaptured,  their  blockade  was  no  longer  necessary.  The 
other  gave  notice  to  the  foreign  governments  who  had 
refused  to  vessels  of  war  of  the  United  States  the  privileges 
to  which  they  were  entitled  by  treaty,  public  law,  and 
international  comity,  that  henceforth  their  own  vessels 
would  be  treated  in  precisely  the  same  way  by  the  United 
States,  until  the  obnoxious  restrictions  were  withdrawn. 

So  the  end  had  come  at  last.  Joyous  and  enthusiastic 
crowds  were  going  about  the  streets  exchanging  con- 
gratulations. Flags  were  floating,  and  music  re-echoing 
the  glad  tidings, — "The  cruel  war  was  over." 


Last  Meeting  of  Lincoln  and  Seward   253 

April,  1865. 

Last  Meeting  of  Lincoln  and  Seward.  Soon  after  the 
capture  of  Richmond,  President  Lincoln  went  down  there 
to  visit  the  army  and  the  city.  While  there  he  heard  of 
the  carriage  accident  by  which  my  father  had  been  badly 
injured  on  the  5th  of  April. 

Returning  to  Washington,  he  found  that  news  of  the 
great  Union  successes  had  spread  abroad.  Improvised 
meetings  and  processions  were  hourly  occurring,  and  all 
Washington  seemed  to  be  pervaded  with  excitement. 

He  hastened  to  visit  my  father  in  his  sick  chamber. 
It  was  in  the  evening,  the  gaslights  were  turned  down  low, 
and  the  house  was  still,  everyone  moving  softly  and 
speaking  in  whispers.  The  injured  Secretary  was  helpless 
and  swathed  in  bandages,  on  his  bed  in  the  centre  of  the 
room.  The  extreme  sensitiveness  of  the  wounded  arm 
made  even  the  touch  of  the  bed  clothing  intolerable.  To 
keep  it  free  from  their  contact  he  was  lying  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed  farthest  from  the  door.  Mr.  Lincoln,  entering 
with  kindly  expressions  of  sympathy,  sat  down  on  the 
bed  by  the  invalid's  side. 

"You  are  back  from  Richmond?"  whispered  Seward, 
who  was  hardly  able  to  articulate. 

"Yes,"  said  Lincoln,  "and  I  think  we  are  near  the  end 
at  last." 

Then,  leaning  his  tall  form  across  the  bed  and  resting 
on  his  elbow,  so  as  to  bring  his  face  near  that  of  the 
injured  man,  he  gave  him  an  account  of  his  experience 
"at  the  front, "  Seward  listening  with  interest,  but  unable 
to  utter  a  word  without  pain.  They  were  left  together 
for  half  an  hour  or  more. 

Then  the  door  opened  softly,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  came  out 
gently,  intimating  by  a  silent  look  and  gesture  that  Seward 
had  fallen  into  a  feverish  slumber  and  must  not  be  disturbed. 

It  was  their  last  meeting. 


254         Lincoln's  Last  Cabinet  Meeting 

Lincoln's  Last  Cabinet  Meeting.  On  the  I4th  of 
April,  1861,  the  Civil  War  had  opened  with  the  fall  of 
Fort  Sumter.  Four  years  of  battle  had  followed.  Now, 
the  return  of  that  anniversary  was  accompanied  with  the 
advent  of  Peace.  It  was  deemed  a  proper  day  to  again 
raise  the  Union  flag  on  the  fort,  with  appropriate  cere- 
monies. This  year  it  happened  that  the  I4th  was  also 
Good  Friday. 

Early  that  morning,  a  messenger  from  the  White  House 
brought  me  a  note  in  President  Lincoln's  well-known 
handwriting.  It  ran: 

"ACTING  SECRETARY  OF  STATE: 

"Please  call  a  Cabinet  meeting  at  eleven  o'clock  today. 
General  Grant  will  be  with  us. 

"A.  LINCOLN." 

As  my  father  was  confined  to  his  bed  by  the  injuries 
received  in  his  recent  carriage  accident,  I  was  acting  in 
his  stead.  I  sent  out  the  notices,  and  at  the  appointed 
hour  came  Secretaries  McCulloch  and  Welles,  Post- 
master-General Dennison  and  Attorney- General  Speed 
soon  arrived,  and  I  appeared  as  representative  of  the 
State  Department.  Mr.  Lincoln,  with  an  expression  of 
visible  relief  and  content  upon  his  face,  sat  in  his  study 
chair,  by  the  south  window,  chatting  with  us  over  "the 
great  news."  Some  curiosity  was  expressed  as  to  what 
had  become  of  the  heads  of  the  rebel  government — 
whether  they  would  escape  from  the  country,  or  would 
remain  to  be  captured  and  tried ;  and  if  tried,  what  penalty 
would  be  visited  upon  them? 

All  those  present  thought  that,  for  the  sake  of  general 
amity  and  good  will,  it  was  desirable  to  have  as  few 
judicial  proceedings  as  possible.  Yet  would  it  be  wise 
to  let  the  leaders  in  treason  go  entirely  unpunished? 


Lincoln's  Last  Cabinet  Meeting        255 

Mr.  Speed  remarked  that  it  would  be  a  difficult  problem 
if  it  should  occur. 

"I  suppose,  Mr.  President,"  said  Governor  Dennison, 
"you  would  not  be  sorry  to  have  them  escape  out  of  the 
country?" 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln  slowly,  "I  should  not  be 
sorry  to  have  them  out  of  the  country ;  but  I  should  be  for 
following  them  up  pretty  close,  to  make  sure  of  their 
going." 

The  conversation  turning  upon  the  subject  of  sleep, 
Mr.  Lincoln  remarked  that  a  peculiar  dream  of  the 
previous  night  was  one  that  had  occurred  several  times  in 
his  life, — a  vague  sense  of  floating — floating  away  on  some 
vast  and  indistinct  expanse,  toward  an  unknown  shore. 
The  dream  itself  was  not  so  strange  as  the  coincidence  that 
each  of  its  previous  recurrences  had  been  followed  by 
some  important  event  or  disaster,  which  he  mentioned. 

The  usual  comments  were  made  by  his  auditors.  One 
thought  it  was  merely  a  matter  of  coincidences. 

Another  laughingly  remarked,  "At  any  rate  it  cannot 
presage  a  victory  nor  a  defeat  this  time,  for  the  war  is 
over." 

I  suggested,  "Perhaps  at  each  of  these  periods  there 
were  possibilities  of  great  change  or  disaster,  and  the 
vague  feeling  of  uncertainty  may  have  led  to  the  dim 
vision  in  sleep." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  thoughtfully,  "perhaps 
that  is  the  explanation." 

Mr.  Stanton  was  the  last  to  arrive.  He  brought  with 
him  a  large  roll  of  paper,  upon  which  he  had  been  at 
work. 

General  Grant  entered,  in  accordance  with  the  Presi- 
dent's invitation,  and  was  received  with  cordial  welcomes 
and  congratulations.  He  briefly  and  modestly  narrated 
the  incidents  of  the  surrender.  Mr.  Lincoln's  face  glowed 


256         Lincoln's  Last  Cabinet  Meeting 

with  approval  when,  in  reply  to  his  inquiry,  "What  terms 
did  you  make  for  the  common  soldiers?"  General  Grant 
said,  "I  told  them  to  go  back  to  their  homes  and  families, 
and  they  would  not  be  molested,  if  they  did  nothing  more." 

Kindly  feeling  toward  the  vanquished,  and  hearty 
desire  to  restore  peace  and  safety  at  the  South,  with  as 
little  harm  as  possible  to  the  feelings  or  the  property 
of  the  inhabitants,  pervaded  the  whole  discussion. 

At  such  a  meeting,  in  such  a  time,  there  could  be  but 
one  question, — the  restoration  or  re-establishment  of 
the  seceded  States  in  their  former  relations  as  members  of 
the  Federal  Union. 

The  conference  was  long  and  earnest,  with  little  diver- 
sity of  opinion,  except  as  to  details.  One  of  the  difficulties 
of  the  problem  was,  who  should  be  recognized  as  State 
authorities?  There  was  a  loyal  governor  in  Virginia. 
There  were  military  governors  in  some  of  the  other  States. 
But  the  Southern  legislatures  were  for  the  most  part 
avowedly  treasonable.  Whether  they  should  be  allowed 
to  continue  until  they  committed  some  new  overt  act  of 
hostility;  whether  the  governors  should  be  requested  to 
order  new  elections;  whether  such  elections  should  be 
ordered  by  the  General  Government — all  these  were 
questions  raised. 

Among  many  similar  expressions  of  the  President, 
was  the  remark:  "We  can't  undertake  to  run  State 
governments  in  all  these  Southern  States.  Their  people 
must  do  that, — though  I  reckon  that  at  first  some  of  them 
may  do  it  badly." 

The  Secretary  of  War  then  unrolled  his  sheets  of  paper, 
on  which  he  had  drafted  the  outlines  of  reconstruction, 
embodying  the  President's  views,  and,  as  it  was  under- 
stood, those  of  the  other  members  of  the  Cabinet.  In 
substance  it  was,  that  the  Treasury  Department  should 
take  possession  of  the  custom  houses,  and  proceed  to 


Lincoln's  Last  Cabinet  Meeting        257 

collect  the  revenues;  that  the  War  Department  should 
garrison  or  destroy  the  forts;  that  the  Navy  Department 
should,  in  like  manner,  occupy  the  harbours,  take  posses- 
sion of  navy  yards,  ships,  and  ordnance ;  that  the  Interior 
Department  should  send  out  its  surveyors,  land,  pension, 
and  Indian  agents  and  set  them  at  work;  that  the  Post- 
master-General should  reopen  his  post-offices  and  re- 
establish his  mail  routes;  that  the  Attorney-General 
should  look  after  the  re-establishment  of  the  Federal 
courts,  with  their  judges,  marshals,  and  attorneys:  in 
short,  that  the  machinery  of  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment should  be  set  in  motion;  that  its  laws  should  be 
faithfully  observed  and  enforced;  that  anything  like 
domestic  violence  or  insurrection  should  be  repressed; 
but  that  public  authorities  and  private  citizens  should 
remain  unmolested,  if  not  found  in  actual  hostility  to  the 
Government  of  the  Union. 

It  must  have  been  about  two  o'clock  when  the  Cabinet 
meeting  ended.  At  its  close,  the  President  remarked  that 
he  had  been  urged  to  visit  the  theatre  that  evening,  and 
asked  General  Grant  if  he  would  join  the  party.  The 
General  excused  himself,  as  he  had  a  previous  engagement. 
He  took  his  leave,  and  some  of  the  others  followed  him. 

Then  I  said,  "Mr.  President,  we  have  a  new  British 
Minister,  Sir  Frederick  Bruce.  He  has  arrived  in  Wash- 
ington, and  is  awaiting  presentation.  At  what  time  will 
it  be  convenient  for  you  to  receive  him?" 

He  paused  a  moment  in  thought,  and  replied: 

"Tomorrow  at  two  o'clock." 

"In  the  Blue  Room,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,  in  the  Blue  Room, "  and  then  added  with  a  smile, 

"Don't  forget  to  send  up  the  speeches  beforehand.  I 
would  like  to  look  them  over." 

I  promised  to  do  so,  and  then  took  my  leave. — I  never 
saw  him  afterwards. 


258  Assassination  Night 

Assassination  Night.  It  was  the  ninth  day  since  the 
carriage  accident  in  which  my  father  had  been  injured,  and 
he  still  lay  helpless  and  suffering.  His  symptoms  alter- 
nately inspired  hope  of  his  recovery  or  grave  apprehen- 
sions that  he  could  not  survive.  The  physicians  held 
frequent  consultations.  The  family  took  turns  in  watching 
at  his  bedside,  and  two  invalid  soldiers  were  sent  to 
assist  in  his  care.  Aggravated  pain  and  inflammation 
brought  on  occasional  delirium,  but  every  day,  although 
unable  to  talk,  he  would  intimate  his  desire  to  be  informed 
of  current  events. 

He  essayed  to  make  a  suggestion  or  two  in  reference  to  a 
Thanksgiving  proclamation,  and  in  regard  to  the  relations 
with  Great  Britain,  but  after  enunciating  a  few  words 
with  difficulty  could  not  continue.  He  listened  with  a 
look  of  pleasure  to  the  narrative  of  the  events  of  the 
Cabinet  meeting. 

Night  came,  and  about  ten  o'clock  Dr.  Norris,  the  last 
of  the  physicians  who  called  during  the  evening,  had 
taken  his  leave.  The  gaslights  were  turned  low,  and  all 
was  quiet.  In  the  sick-room  of  my  father  were  his 
daughter  Fanny  and  the  invalid  soldier  nurse  George  T. 
Robinson.  The  other  members  of  the  family  had  gone 
to  their  respective  rooms  to  rest,  before  their  term  of 
watching. 

There  seemed  nothing  unusual  in  the  occurrence,  when  a 
tall,  well  dressed,  but  unknown  man  presented  himself 
below  and,  informing  the  servant  he  had  brought  a  message 
from  the  doctor,  was  allowed  to  come  up  the  stairs. 

Hearing  the  noise  of  footsteps  in  the  hall,  I  came  out  and 
met  him.  When  he  told  me  that  he  came  with  a  message 
from  the  doctor  that  was  to  be  delivered  to  Mr.  Seward 
personally,  I  told  him  that  the  Secretary  was  sleeping, 
and  must  not  be  disturbed,  and  that  he  could  give  me 
the  message. 


Assassination  Night  259 

He  repeated  two  or  three  times  that  he  must  see  Mr. 
Seward  personally.  As  he  seemed  to  have  nothing  else 
to  say,  he  gave  me  the  impression  that  he  was  rather 
dull  or  stupid. 

Finally,  I  said,  "Well,  if  you  will  not  give  me  the 
message,  go  back  and  tell  the  doctor  I  refused  to  let  you 
see  Mr.  Seward." 

As  he  stood  apparently  irresolute,  I  said,  "I  am  his 
son,  and  the  Assistant  Secretary  of  State.  Go  back  and 
tell  the  doctor  that  I  refused  to  let  you  go  into  the  sick- 
room, because  Mr.  Seward  was  sleeping." 

He  replied,  "Very  well,  sir,  I  will  go,"  and,  turning 
away,  took  two  or  three  steps  down  the  stairs. 

Suddenly  turning  again,  he  sprang  up  and  forward, 
having  drawn  a  Navy  revolver,  which  he  levelled, 
with  a  muttered  oath,  at  my  head,  and  pulled  the 
trigger. 

And  now,  in  swift  succession,  like  the  scenes  of  some 
hideous  dream,  came  the  bloody  incidents  of  the  night, — 
of  the  pistol  missing  fire, — of  the  struggle  in  the  dimly 
lighted  hall,  between  the  armed  man  and  the  unarmed 
one, — of  the  blows  which  broke  the  pistol  of  the  one,  and 
fractured  the  skull  of  the  other, — of  the  bursting  in  of 
the  door, — of  the  mad  rush  of  the  assassin  to  the  bedside, 
and  his  savage  slashing,  with  a  bowie  knife,  at  the  face 
and  throat  of  the  helpless  Secretary,  instantly  reddening 
the  white  bandages  with  streams  of  blood, — of  the  screams 
of  the  daughter  for  help, — of  the  attempt  of  the  invalid 
soldier  nurse  to  drag  the  assailant  from  his  victim,  receiv- 
ing sharp  wounds  himself  in  return, — of  the  noise  made  by 
the  awaking  household,  inspiring  the  assassin  with  hasty 
impulse  to  escape,  leaving  his  work  done  or  undone, 
of  his  frantic  rush  down  the  stairs,  cutting  and  slashing 
at  all  whom  he  found  in  his  way,  wounding  one  in  the 
face,  and  stabbing  another  in  the  back, — of  his  escape 


260  Assassination  Night 

through  the  open  doorway, — and  his  flight  on  horseback 
down  the  avenue. 

Five  minutes  later,  the  aroused  household  were  gazing 
horrified  at  the  bleeding  faces  and  figures  in  their  midst, 
were  lifting  the  insensible  form  of  the  Secretary  from  a 
pool  of  blood, — and  sending  for  surgical  help.  Mean- 
while a  panic-stricken  crowd  were  surging  in  from  the 
street  to  the  hall  and  rooms  below,  vainly  inquiring  or 
wildly  conjecturing  what  had  happened.  For  these,  the 
horrors  of  the  night  seemed  to  culminate  when  later 
comers  rushed  in,  with  the  intelligence  that  the  President 
had  also  been  attacked,  at  the  same  hour, — had  been 
shot  at  Ford's  Theatre, — had  been  carried  to  a  house  in 
Tenth  Street, — and  was  lying  there  unconscious  and  dying. 

On  the  following  morning  Secretary  Stanton  telegraphed 
to  General  Sherman : 

"WASHINGTON,  April  15,  1865,  12  M. 

"President  Lincoln  was  murdered  about  ten  o'clock 
last  night,  in  his  private  box  at  Ford's  Theatre,  in  this 
city,  by  an  assassin,  who  shot  him  through  the  head  with 
a  pistol  ball.  The  assassin  leaped  from  the  box,  brand- 
ishing a  dagger,  exclaiming  'Sic  semper  tyrannis, '  and 
that  Virginia  was  avenged.  Mr.  Lincoln  fell  senseless 
from  his  seat,  and  continued  in  that  state  until  twenty- 
two  minutes  after  seven  o'clock,  at  which  time  he  breathed 
his  last.  General  Grant  was  published  to  be  at  the 
theatre,  but  did  not  go. 

"About  the  same  time,  Mr.  Seward's  house  was  entered 
by  another  assassin,  who  stabbed  the  Secretary  in  several 
places.  It  is  thought  he  may  possibly  recover,  but  his  son 
Frederick  will  probably  die  of  wounds  received  from  the 
assassin. 

"Vice-President  Johnson  now  becomes  President,  and 
will  take  the  oath  of  office  and  assume  duties  today. 


Assassination  Night  261 

"I  have  no  time  to  add  more  than  to  say  that  I  find 
evidence  that  an  assassin  is  also  on  your  track,  and  I 
beseech  you  to  be  more  heedful  than  Mr.  Lincoln  was  of 
such  knowledge. 

"EDWIN  M.  STANTON, 
"Secretary  of  War." 

The  country  was  plunged  in  grief.  Indeed  the  whole 
civilized  world  was  startled  by  the  news  of  the  bloody 
crimes  at  Washington.  The  cities  were  draped  in  mourn- 
ing for  the  murdered  President.  Hourly  bulletins  of 
the  condition  of  the  Secretary  of  State  gave  little  hope 
that  he  could  survive  his  wounds. 

The  number  and  the  purposes  of  the  conspirators  were 
as  yet  unknown,  and  this  uncertainty  added  to  the 
general  feeling  of  uneasy  apprehension.  Energetic  efforts 
to  ascertain  the  identity  of  the  assassins  and  to  arrest 
them  were  at  once  begun  by  the  military  authorities. 
Sentinels  paced  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  Seward's  house, 
to  guard  against  another  attack.  Anxious  inquirers 
thronged  at  the  door.  Letters  and  telegrams  of  condo- 
lence and  sympathy  poured  in  upon  the  afflicted  family. 

For  several  days  my  father  lay  in  a  critical  state.  His 
physicians  had  feared  the  injuries  from  the  carriage 
accident  might  prove  fatal,  and  now  to  these  were  added 
the  frightful  wounds  inflicted  by  the  assassin's  knife. 
At  intervals  he  was  partly  conscious,  and  then  would 
lapse  for  hours  into  a  condition  of  apparent  stupor. 

Of  the  scenes  passing  outside  he  had  no  knowledge, 
except  as  they  were  told  him  by  his  attendants.  The 
funeral  of  President  Lincoln,  the  inauguration  of  Vice- 
President  Johnson  in  his  stead,  the  surrender  of  Johnston, 
the  capture  of  Davis,  the  arrest  of  the  assassins,  all  took 
place  while  he  was  still  unable  to  move. 

He  used  at  a  subsequent  period  to  tell  of  his  vague  and 


262  After  the  Assassination 

dreamy  memory  of  being  propped  up  with  pillows,  and 
drawn  to  the  window,  to  witness  the  passing  funeral 
pageant  of  the  President.     The  great  black  catafalque, 
with  its  nodding  sable  plumes,  caught  his  eye,  but  he 
was  physically  too  weak  to  grasp  its  full  significance. 

After  the  Assassination.  I  who  write,  and  you  who 
read  these  things,  have  to  remind  ourselves  that  they 
occurred  fifty  years  ago.  Needless  then  to  dwell  upon 
the  horror-stricken  household,  the  gruesome  details  of 
surgical  relief,  the  physical  pain  and  suffering,  the  slow  re- 
turn to  consciousness,  the  tedious  weeks  of  convalescence, 
the  unavailing  grief  for  the  loved  ones  who  succumbed 
to  the  shock,  and  the  sorrow  for  the  dead  President. 

All  these  things  belong  to  the  irrevocable  past. 

Let  us  rather  recall  with  pleasant  remembrance  the 
loving  care  for  the  sufferers,  the  consummate  medical 
skill  displayed,  and  above  all  the  outburst  of  world-wide 
sympathy  throughout  all  civilized  lands,  evincing,  as  no 
other  event  in  our  time  has  done,  the  Brotherhood  of 
Man. 


PART  III 
After  the  War 

Washington,  Dec.  29,  1865. 

Our  West  Indian  Cruise.  This  is  the  29th  of  December. 
Congress  has  adjourned  for  the  holiday  recess.  The 
flags  are  lowered.  The  Capitol  ceases  to  swarm  and 
buzz.  Even  the  throng  of  visitors  at  the  White  House  is 
thinned  out.  Public  business  slackens.  The  Diplomatic 
Corps  are  more  occupied  with  the  festivities  of  the  season 
than  with  notes  and  despatches,  and  the  Department  of 
State  has  a  breathing  spell.  The  time  seems  auspicious 
for  the  Secretary  to  take  that  brief  respite  from  official 
cares  which  his  physician  has  warned  him  that  his  health 
requires,  and  which  seems  essential,  if  he  is  ever  to  recover 
from  the  effects  of  his  injuries.  He  has  accordingly  de- 
cided to  take  a  run  down  into  the  genial  air  of  the  tropics 
for  a  month  or  so.  In  so  doing,  he  will  accomplish  a  double 
purpose.  Besides  regaining  his  strength,  he  will  have  an 
opportunity,  long  desired,  of  observing  the  West  Indian 
islands,  noting  their  political,  social,  and  commercial 
condition,  and  studying  the  problems  arising  out  of  their 
proximity  to  the  United  States — problems  that  increase 
in  number  and  difficulty  every  year,  as  our  relations 
with  them  grow  more  intimate. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Navy  has  kindly  placed  at  his  dis- 
posal the  De  Soto  a  fine  steamer  of  one  thousand  six 

263 


264  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

hundred  tons,  belonging  to  the  West  Indian  squadron, 
which,  without  departing  from  her  own  field  of  duty, 
can  take  him  to  visit  the  islands  speedily  and  comfortably. 
This  will  bring  him  back  to  work  again  before  Congress 
shall  have  advanced  more  than  a  fortnight  in  its  session, 
so  that  he  will  be  in  time  to  receive  his  share  of  that 
fire  of  resolutions  of  inquiry  which  seem  to  be  the  indis- 
pensable preliminary  to  all  legislation  and  "reconstruc- 
tion." 

Washington,  Dec.  30,  1865. 

Today  we  are  sending  our  supplies  down  to  the  steamer. 
Our  party  will  consist  of  six.  There  will  be  two  ladies 
(my  wife  and  her  sister);  two  gentlemen,  the  Secretary 
of  State  and  myself;  and  two  servants  (John  Butler, 
who  has  served  us  so  long  and  faithfully,  and  Joseph 
Smallwood,  whose  marine  experience  will  render  him 
useful  on  the  voyage). 

Our  latest  advices  from  the  navy  yard  are  that  the 
steamer  has  taken  in  her  coal  and  is  "in  the  stream, "and 
that  we  are  expected  on  board  tonight. 

On  Board  U.  S.  Steamer  De  Soto, 
Off  Giesboro,  Dec.  31,  1865. 

Under  a  bright,  clear,  moonlit  sky  we  embarked  last 
night  at  the  navy  yard,  on  a  tug  which  we  found  lying 
at  the  wharf,  ready  to  take  us  to  the  De  Soto.  Half 
an  hour  brought  us  alongside  of  the  great  black  hull, 
towering  up  above  even  the  smoke  pipe  of  our  little  craft. 
A  voice  from  above  hailed  "Tug  ahoy!"  and  inquired 
our  errand;  and  in  response  to  our  reply  came,  "Ay,  ay, 
sir.  Please  to  come  this  way  to  the  gangway. "  In  five 
minutes  more  we  had  shaken  hands  with  the  Attorney- 
General,  the  Colonel,  and  the  squire,  had  climbed  the 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  265 

ladder,  were  welcomed  by  the  captain,  and  were  on  board, 
"outward  bound." 

Descending  to  the  cabin,  we  were  shortly  followed  there 
by  confused  piles  of  trunks,  bedding,  crockery,  etc.,  giving 
the  party  the  appearance  of  a  large  family  just  going  to 
housekeeping  in  a  small  house.  A  couple  of  hours  were 
devoted  to  the  business  of  getting  things  "shipshape," 
and  at  half -past  ten  we  "turned  in,"  with  the  comfortable 
assurance  that  when  we  awoke  we  should  find  ourselves 
steaming  down  the  Potomac  below  Fort  Washington  and 
Mount  Vernon,  and  "going  out  with  the  tide"  to  sea. 

Early  this  morning  drum  and  fife  sounded  the  reveille, 
and  daylight  (though  rather  a  dim  and  dubious  specimen 
of  the  article)  began  to  stream  down  through  the  sky- 
light. But  the  ship  was  ominously  tranquil,  and  there 
was  neither  clank  of  engine  nor  jar  of  timbers.  Presently 
the  bell  struck  thrice.  Just  so,  we  said;  there  is  "three 
bells" — signifying,  when  translated  into  the  dialect  of 
land-lubbers,  half-past  five  o'clock.  Presently  it  struck 
three  bells  again.  Then  it  struck  three  bells  a  third  time. 
Then  it  kept  on  striking  three  bells  every  five  minutes. 
We  began  to  doubt  our  familiarity  with  marine  horology. 
"What  o'clock  is  that?"  The  reply  was  brief  and  suc- 
cinct: "Fog,  sir." 

Fog  it  was.  And  fog  it  is  yet.  We  are  off  Giesboro, 
just  where  we  were  last  night,  and  though  we  are  already 
out  of  sight  of  land,  we  are  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from 
the  old  cavalry  barracks,  nor  out  of  hearing  of  the  crows 
that  there  do  congregate.  The  fog  is  impenetrable.  It 
has  congealed  on  the  masts,  the  rigging,  the  guns,  and  the 
decks,  covering  the  latter  with  a  glare  of  ice,  admirable  for 
skating  purposes,  but  not  well  adapted  to  walking.  So 
we  sit  below  in  the  cabin  around  the  breakfast  table, 
reading  yesterday's  morning  papers,  wondering  what 
they  are  doing  at  home,  and  when  anybody  will  be  able 


266  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

to  do  anything  here.  On  the  latter  point  we  consult 
successively  the  barometer,  the  thermometer,  the  com- 
pass, and  the  captain.  But,  so  far,  they  all  decide  the 
question  in  the  negative.  The  tide  has  come  and  gone, 
but  we  haven't. 

Off  Piney  Point, 
Monday,  Jan.  i,  1866. 

We  are  steaming  down  the  Potomac  at  eleven  knots  an 
hour,  and  rapidly  approaching  the  Chesapeake.  Since 
this  time  yesterday,  it  has  rained,  it  has  snowed,  it  has 
frozen,  it  has  thawed,  it  has  grown  clear,  it  has  grown 
foggy;  and  through  these  changes  we  have  gradually  and 
cautiously  felt  our  way  down  the  river.  We  have  passed 
Alexandria,  whose  wharves  look  deserted  and  desolate  in 
these  "piping  times  of  peace,"  though  so  busy  and  bus- 
tling during  war.  We  have  passed  Fort  Foote  with  its 
frowning  four-hundred-pounders,  and  Fort  Washington 
with  imposing  parapets.  We  have  tolled  the  bell  and 
lowered  the  ensign  as  we  passed  the  grave  of  Washington,  at 
Mount  Vernon.  We  have  passed  the  Occoquan  and  Acquia 
Creek,  Belle  Plain  and  Indian  Head.  We  have  seen  the 
deserted  ruins  of  the  rebel  batteries  that  once  blockaded 
the  Potomac  from  Freestone  to  Matthias'  Point.  We 
have  noted  the  spot,  marked  by  a  tall,  blackened  chimney, 
where  Ward  was  lolled  in  trying  to  carry  one  of  them; 
and  have  traced  the  line  where  Booth  crossed,  in  making 
his  escape  toward  Richmond.  We  have  met  and  passed 
perhaps  a  dozen  schooners,  loaded  with  hay  and  oysters, 
where  we  saw  so  recently  fleets,  navies,  and  argosies  of 
warlike  ships  and  transports,  appearing  as  if  evoked  by 
charm,  and  now  disappearing  as  if  by  magic.  And  with 
them  has  gone  the  last  of  the  four  memorable  years  of 
civil  war  in  America. 

This  is  New  Year's  Day.    Officers  and  men  are  exchang- 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  267 

ing,  this  morning,  the  salutations  of  the  season.  But 
we  have  no  New  Year  callers,  except  a  party  of  seven  white 
seagulls,  who  came  early  this  morning  and  still  follow  the 
vessel,  occasionally  screaming  a  "Happy  New  Year"  to 
us,  and  evidently  not  unwilling  to  be  invited  to  partake  of 
refreshments  suited  to  the  occasion. 

As  the  De  Soto  threads  her  way  through  the  devious 
channel,  her  decks  present  an  animated  picture.  On  the 
paddle-box  stands  the  pilot,  encased  in  india-rubber  coat 
and  hat,  and  peering  over  the  top  of  a  screen  of  sail-cloth 
erected  before  him  to  keep  off  the  driving  rain  and  sleet. 
On  the  other  paddle-box  stands  the  lieutenant-commander, 
speaking-trumpet  in  hand,  to  give  the  necessary  orders  to 
the  deck.  Behind  each  paddle-box  are  two  sailors 
heaving  the  lead,  and  at  intervals  chanting,  "By  the 
deep,  five, "  etc.  At  the  wheel  stand  four  seamen,  under 
the  eye  of  a  burly  quartermaster,  who  echoes  the  word  of 
command,  "Sou'east,  half  east,  sir,"  "Ay,  ay,  sir," 
"Hard-a-port  it  is."  On  the  quarter-deck  the  officers 
pace  monotonously  up  and  down  on  their  appointed  round. 
Away  off  forward,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  forecastle,  groups 
of  sailors  are  standing  joking,  chatting,  scuffling,  until  the 
boatswain's  shrill  whistle  summons  them  to  some  duty. 

For  our  own  part,  we  keep  below  today  while  the  rain 
lasts,  except  an  occasional  turn  on  deck  to  see  how  we  are 
getting  on.  Our  accommodations  are  ample,  and,  for  the 
sea,  spacious.  The  captain's  cabin  is  our  parlour  and 
dining-room  and  library;  it  is  nearly  the  size  of  our  "yel- 
low parlour ' '  at  home.  On  each  side  of  this  is  a  stateroom, 
and  a  third  sleeping  apartment  has  been  ingeniously 
added  by  a  partition  slicing  off  a  piece  of  the  ward- 
room. Just  behind  the  staterooms  there  is,  on  one  side,  a 
steward's  pantry,  and  on  the  other  a  bathroom.  A  short 
circular  stair  leads  from  the  cabin  to  the  quarter-deck 
protected  by  a  tarpaulin  from  the  weather.  Light  is 


268  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

supplied  sufficiently  by  skylights  and  portholes,  and  heat 
is  (or  ought  to  be)  furnished  by  a  sheet-iron  coal-stove, 
which  yesterday  chose  not  to  burn,  and  so  let  the  ther- 
mometer down  to  forty  degrees.  But,  accidentally,  the 
bottom  of  it  fell  out  last  night,  and  then  it  worked  admir- 
ably, the  temperature  rising  to  eighty  degrees,  and  all  the 
rooms  becoming  warm  and  comfortable.  But  we  hope 
soon  to  dispense  with  stoves  and  overcoats.  We  have 
come  one  degree  of  latitude  to  the  southward,  and  the 
thermometer  on  deck  has  risen  from  twenty-five  degrees 
yesterday  to  thirty-six  degrees  today.  The  shores  of 
the  river  are  still  white  with  snow,  but  the  ice  is  disappear- 
ing from  the  rigging  and  the  decks. 

January  i,  1866. — Evening. 

New  Year's  Day  has  brought  us  to  pleasant  acquaint- 
ance with  our  ship  and  its  officers.  The  captain  is  our  old 
friend,  William  M.  Walker,  who  has  now  been  thirty-eight 
years  in  the  service.  At  the  opening  of  the  war  he  was  a 
commander.  When  doubts  were  expressed  about  the 
naval  officers  from  "Border  States,"  he  settled  the  ques- 
tion as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  by  asking  to  be  "counted 
in"  in  the  expedition  to  relieve  Sumter.  He  has  been 
zealous  and  active;  in  the  early  part  of  the  struggle  going 
out  to  England  on  a  confidential  mission,  to  examine  the 
construction  of  ships,  arms,  etc.;  receiving  his  captain's 
commission  in  1862,  and  latterly  doing  good  service  in  the 
Gulf  and  the  North  Atlantic  blockading  squadron.  His 
junior  officers  are  fine-looking,  active,  gentlemanly  young 
men,  and  have  all  achieved  creditable  reputations  in  the 
war.  Three  of  them  are  graduates  of  the  Naval  Academy. 
Mr.  Howell,  who  is  from  our  own  State,  and  received  his 
promotion  last  year  to  be  lieutenant-commander,  is  the 
executive  officer.  Lieutenant  Sumner  is  from  Kentucky. 
To  him  is  assigned  the  responsible  and  laborious  duty  of 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  269 

"  navigating  "  the  ship.  Lieutenant  Read  is  of  New  Jersey ; 
has  been  seven  years  in  the  service,  and  nearly  five  of 
them  afloat.  Dr.  Kidder,  the  surgeon,  is  a  Massachusetts 
man,  and  came  into  the  service  at  the  beginning  of  the 
war.  So  did  the  paymaster,  Mr.  Cochran,  of  Philadelphia. 
Mr.  Brice,  Mr.  Locke,  and  Mr.  Roberts  are  volunteer 
officers  of  more  recent  appointment.  Then  there  are 
the  engineer  officers,  under  the  direction  of  the  chief 
engineer,  Mr.  Hebard,  of  New  York,  who  at  noon  every 
day  reports  in  writing  exactly  how  many  pounds  of  coal 
have  been  used  during  the  voyage,  and  how  many  remain 
in  the  bunkers. 

The  vessel  herself  is  evidently  a  favourite  with  the 
officers,  as  she  deserves  to  be.  Built  originally  for  a  New 
Orleans  packet,  she  was  early  seen  to  be  a  craft  that  had 
both  speed  and  strength  enough  to  make  her  useful  in  our 
improvised  navy.  Her  spacious  cabins  were  turned 
into  wardrooms,  officers'  quarters,  and  magazines;  eight 
one-hundred-pound  Parrott  guns  mounted  on  her  deck; 
and  for  the  last  two  or  three  years  she  has  been  cruising 
up  and  down  the  Atlantic  and  Gulf  coasts  of  the  Southern 
States,  capturing  blockade-runners  with  a  success  that 
has  been  much  more  beneficial  to  the  Government  and  to 
her  officers  and  men  than  to  the  English  insurers  of  those 
ill-fated  craft. 

The  De  Soto  began  her  naval  career  in  1862  by  pouncing 
upon  unlucky  schooners  that  were  creeping  out  of  the 
Louisiana  bayous  with  loads  of  cotton,  or  in  with  loads 
of  powder,  etc.  The  next  year  she  flew  at  larger  game 
in  the  Gulf  and  on  the  Atlantic,  and  brought  in  such  prizes 
as  the  steamers  Alice  Vivian,  Montgomery,  and  James 
Battle,  besides  various  sloops  and  schooners. 

In  1864,  she  rounded  off  her  record  with  the  capture  of 
the  steamer  Cumberland.  Afterward  she  was  ordered  down 
to  the  West  Indies,  and  was  at  Cape  Haytien  at  the  time 


270  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

of  the  "Bulldog  affair,"  which  led  to  the  diplomatic 
difficulty  between  England  and  the  Haytian  Republic. 
The  De  Soto,  as  Captain  Walker  describes  the  scene,  took 
no  part  in  the  hostilities,  though  she  did  help  to  rescue 
some  of  the  combatants  who  were  menaced  with  the 
triple  danger  of  bombardment,  burning,  and  drowning. 
To  this  last  narrative,  Mr.  Seward  listens  attentively 
though  imperturbably,  as  he  sits  and  smokes  his  cigar, 
occasionally  asking  some  pertinent  question.  He  has  had 
already  two  official  versions  of  this  same  story  from  eye- 
witnesses, one  through  the  American  consulate  and  the 
other  through  the  British  legation.  And  now  here  is  a 
third  which  differs  from  both  in  some  material  points. 
Nothing  is  so  hard  to  get  at  as  the  exact  truth  about  a  fight, 
even  when  the  narrator  aims  to  be  perfectly  truthful  and  dis- 
interested. Each  one's  story  necessarily  centres  in  his 
own  circle  of  vision,  and  his  sympathies  colour  the  tale 
unconsciously  to  himself.  Mr.  S.  does  not  give  his  opin- 
ion at  present  on  this  mass  of  conflicting  evidence  about 
the  "Bull-dog,"  but  will  look  into  the  case  more  fully 
hereafter. 

January  I,  1866. — Evening. 

We  have  had  our  New  Year's  dinner,  and  have  passed 
on  down  the  Chesapeake  toward  the  Capes.  The  pilot 
has  taken  leave  of  us,  and  has  gone  off  in  a  small  boat  to 
the  light-ship  near  Old  Point  Comfort.  And  now  we 
have  passed  the  Capes  and  are  at  sea.  We  have  just 
been  on  deck  to  take  our  last  look  at  the  United  States. 
All  that  we  see  of  them  are  the  two  bright  lights  behind  us 
that  mark  Cape  Henry  and  Cape  Charles. 

January  2,  1866. — At  Sea. 
Heavy  gale!    Just  imagine  it! 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  271 

January  3,  1866. — At  Sea. 

Gale  somewhat  abated.  Seasickness  ditto.  One  by  one 
we  have  crawled  up  on  deck.  We  sit  on  chairs  and  a 
lounge  which  the  officers  have  placed  near  the  middle 
of  the  ship.  We  have  breakfasted,  after  a  fashion,  on 
chicken  broth,  and  are  sitting  under  an  awning  that  keeps 
off  the  rain,  and  comparing  notes  on  the  general  appear- 
ance of  the  sea. 

Yesterday,  it  seems,  was  passed  pretty  much  in  travers- 
ing the  Gulf  Stream.  The  thermometer  rose  from  forty- 
two  degrees  to  seventy  degrees,  and,  when  plunged  into  a 
bucket  of  sea-water,  rose  to  seventy-seven  degrees.  Sail- 
ing on  the  Gulf  Stream,  according  to  my  brief  observation 
of  it  yesterday,  looks  not  unlike  cruising  on  a  vast  kettle  of 
boiling  water — the  water  whitened,  troubled,  and  tossing; 
the  air  hot,  damp,  and  steaming,  and  clouds  of  vapour 
rolling  and  scudding  in  various  directions.  Perhaps  this 
resemblance  does  not  hold,  however,  on  a  less  tempestuous 
day  and  with  a  less  seasick  observer. 

Today  we  are  emerging  from  the  Gulf  Stream.  The 
thermometer  has  fallen  to  sixty-eight  degrees.  The  sailors 
have  just  drawn  a  bucketful  of  water  and  announce 
the  temperature  of  it  to  be  seventy-one  degrees.  This 
operation  is  repeated  hourly,  as  is  that  of  heaving  the  log, 
by  which  we  learn  we  are  making  nine  knots  an  hour. 
About  noon  the  sun  came  out  for  a  few  minutes,  and  the 
captain  succeeded  in  getting  an  observation.  We  are  in 
latitude  33  degrees  24  minutes;  in  longitude  71  degrees  43 
minutes.  So  we  are  below  Hatteras,  and  between  it  and 
Bermuda.  Shakespeare  was  right  in  calling  it  "still- 
vexed  Bermoothes,"  when  he  made  it  the  scene  of  his 
Tempest.  It  has  been  the  scene  of  a  great  many  others 
since,  and  has  a  right  to  be  vexed  about  it.  (How  did 
Shakespeare,  with  the  light  of  only  such  geography  as 
existed  three  hundred  years  ago,  acquire  so  correct  an 


272  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

idea  of  it?  Perhaps  from  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  who  was 
one  of  his  contemporaries,  and  whose  voy agings  to 
Carolina  and  back  must  have  made  him  familiar  with  the 
weather  about  Hatteras  and  adjacent  waters.) 

And  now  we  have  come  six  hundred  miles  from  the 
Capes,  and  nearly  eight  hundred  from  Washington.  We 
are  nearly  halfway  on  our  voyage  to  Santa  Cruz,  distant 
from  us  about  one  thousand  miles  more. 

The  rain  circumscribes  our  view,  which  is  drearily 
monotonous.  This  afternoon  two  "Mother  Carey's 
chickens"  have  made  their  appearance,  flitting  rapidly 
over  the  waves  a  short  distance  from  the  ship.  Two 
"sails"  are  also  seen — one  a  large  ship  labouring  heavily 
against  the  wind,  a  few  miles  off  on  our  port  side,  and  the 
other,  too  distant  to  be  readily  made  out,  on  our  star- 
board quarter. 

At  two  bells  (five  o'clock)  the  crew  is  "beat  to  quarters." 
This,  on  a  man-of-war,  corresponds  to  "evening  parade" 
in  camp.  Two  boys  with  drum  and  fife  beat  the  signal. 
The  marines  are  drawn  up  in  line  on  the  quarter- 
deck, under  their  sergeant.  The  sailors  are  grouped 
around  their  respective  guns  and  wherever  else  their 
station  is  to  be  in  time  of  action.  The  officers  move 
about  from  place  to  place  inspecting  each  group.  The 
drum  and  fife  play  a  national  air.  The  colours  are 
lowered  for  the  night,  and  the  men  disperse. 

At  Sea,  January  4,  1866. 

The  weather  continues  stormy.  There  is  a  south-west 
gale,  with  rain  at  frequent  intervals.  Today  we  are  all 
together  on  deck  for  the  first  time.  We  breakfast  and 
dine  there,  after  a  desultory  and  irregular  fashion,  not 
venturing  in  the  cabin  more  than  is  necessary.  John,  who 
has  kept  up,  fortunately,  while  the  rest  were  seasick,  is 
today  hors  du  combat  himself. 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  273 

At  twelve  o'clock  there  is  a  cry  of  " Sail  ho!"  Soon  we 
see  her,  a  large  ship  bearing  down  directly  toward  us  from 
the  southward.  She  has  a  good  deal  of  sail  set,  and  the 
wind,  which  is  so  unfavourable  for  us,  is  favourable  for 
her.  As  she  passes  us  she  seems  to  be  labouring  and 
plunging  through  the  waves,  and  they  occasionally  break 
over  her  bows.  The  two  vessels  are  not  more  than  half 
a  mile  apart.  They  salute  each  other  by  raising  and 
lowering  the  national  ensign.  So  she  is  an  American  like 
ourselves,  but  she  is  not  near  enough  to  hail,  and  we 
shall  know  no  more  of  her  than  this. 

A  glimpse  of  the  sun  is  improved  to  take  an  observation. 
Latitude  31  degrees,  longitude  70  degrees  31  minutes. 
We  are  south-west  of  Bermuda,  and  nearly  on  the  same 
parallel  as  New  Orleans  and  St.  Augustine.  We  are 
farther  south  than  the  Mediterranean,  and  are  nearly  on  a 
line  with  Cairo  in  Egypt. 

The  wind  toward  nightfall  changes  more  to  the  north- 
ward, and  we  go  below  in  the  hope  of  better  weather  to- 
morrow. This  afternoon  we  have  made  but  six  knots  an 
hour.  Our  seats  on  deck  have  to  be  lashed  fast. 

Our  little  group  of  passengers  sit  huddled  on  the  deck 
back  of  the  "house, "  under  a  short  awning  spread  to  keep 
off  the  rain.  Mr.  Seward,  wrapped  up  in  overcoat  and 
shawls,  sits  in  a  great  chair,  whose  back  is  braced  against 
the  captain's  stateroom,  and  which  is  lashed  fast  to  keep  it 
from  slipping  about  the  deck.  The  ladies  occupy,  one  a 
lounge  and  the  other  a  chair,  both  of  which  are  lashed 
fast,  and  for  still  greater  security  the  ladies  are  lashed 
fast  in  them.  Time  is  divided  between  the  dreary  and 
monotonous  view  of  the  sea  and  such  books  and  papers  as 
we  have  brought  along  to  read. 

Today  Smallwood  comes  out  brilliantly,  and  proves 
that  he  has  not  been  fourteen  years  at  sea  for  nothing. 
There  is  a  heavy  sea  on,  and  it  is  a  sight  to  see  him  come 
if 


274  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

gliding  down  from  the  galley,  the  whole  length  of  the 
deck,  with  that  swift  indescribable  gait,  compounded  of  a 
shuffle  and  a  slide,  dexterously  balancing  a  plate  of  hot 
soup  on  the  fingers  of  each  hand,  and  never  spilling  a  drop 
of  it.  He  sways  and  balances  as  if  he  was  part  of  the 
ship  itself;  and  the  soup,  in  his  hands,  looks  so  quiescent 
that  it  seems  natural  enough  to  take  the  plates  into 
our  own  hands.  But  if  we  do,  presto  change! — it  jumps 
about  until  it  is  all  deposited  on  our  clothes  or  on  the  deck. 
I  soon  find  that  the  only  way  is  to  divide  the  labour  with 
Small  wood,  he  holding  the  plate  and  I  eating  the  soup. 
Later  we  betake  ourselves  to  our  snug  quarters  below, 
and  gather  round  the  cabin  lamp.  Mr.  Seward  is  reading 
history  and  voyages,  the  ladies  reading  the  January  maga- 
zines, and  I  writing  up  the  journal  of  the  day. 

At  Sea,  January  5th. 

High  times  in  the  cabin  last  night!  About  midnight 
the  plates  and  dishes  began  to  rattle  vivaciously  in  the 
pantry.  Cups,  saucers,  and  bottles  precipitated  them- 
selves headlong,  with  a  frantic  desire  to  smash  upon  the 
floor.  The  sugar-bowl  took  a  flying  leap  across  the 
cabin,  wildly  dashing  itself  against  the  opposite  door, 
and  leaving  a  white  trail  across  the  carpet  to  mark  its 
flight.  Trunks  rose  up  and  rushed  to  mortal  combat 
with  chairs  and  tables.  The  stove,  hard  pressed  by  blows 
from  all  sides,  held  its  ground  manfully.  The  sofa 
executed  a  double  somersault  in  the  highest  style  of  acro- 
batic art,  only  unfortunately  breaking  its  neck  in  the 
process,  and  suddenly  depositing  John,  its  occupant,  under 
the  table.  The  furniture  seemed  possessed  with  a  desire 
for  spiritual  manifestations  and  emulous  of  the  Davenport 
brothers. 

Going  on  deck  today,  we  find  a  clearer  sky  and  a  fresh 
north-west  wind,  which  rolls  us  about,  but  hastens  us  on  our 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  275 

course.  We  have  our  sails  set  to  aid  our  engine,  and  are 
making  eleven  knots  an  hour,  against  six  yesterday. 
We  are  now  in  latitude  28  degrees,  longitude  69  degrees, 
and  not  more  than  six  hundred  miles  from  our  destination. 
Last  night,  for  the  first,  time  since  leaving  Washington 
we  have  seen  the  moon  and  a  star  or  two.  This  morning 
for  the  first  time  the  deck  is  dry.  The  carpenter  has  been 
called  in  to  restrain  the  insane  freaks  of  our  unruly  furni- 
ture, and  all  is  made  "snug"  and  securely  lashed. 

At  Sea,  January  6th. 

We  are  bowling  along  at  eleven  and  a  half  knots  an  hour, 
and  are  in  latitude  24  degrees.  Today  we  cross  the 
Tropic  of  Cancer,  and  tonight  shall  sleep  within  the  torrid 
zone.  We  have  entered  upon  that  region  of  the  trade 
wind  "which  is  nature's  highway"  of  western  commerce. 
We  have  crossed  the  track  of  Columbus's  first  voyage 
of  discovery;  and  San  Salvador,  where  he  first  landed, 
lies  just  to  the  west  of  us. 

It  will  be  a  week  today  that  we  have  been  on  board; 
and  during  all  that  time  we  have  not  seen  five  minutes' 
sunshine;  although  we  were  coming  farther  and  farther, 
as  we  had  supposed,  into  what  is  the  sun's  peculiar  domain. 

But  though  we  do  not  see  him,  we  are  steadily  gaining 
on  him.  We  have  stolen  half  an  hour's  march  on  him 
already,  as  my  watch  declares.  That,  now,  says  half- 
past  eleven  o'clock,  which  is  your  time  in  Washington 
while  here  the  ship's  bell  is  striking  noon. 

Every  day's  stay  on  board  brings  new  illustrations  of 
the  admirable  method  and  order  which  characterize  a 
man-of-war.  A  ship-of-war  is  the  locality  where  that 
often-quoted  maxim  is  followed  which,  everywhere  else, 
is  preached  but  not  practised:  "A  place  for  everything  and 
everything  in  its  place."  Every  rope  is  coiled  in  its  own 
particular  spot.  Every  bucket  hangs  on  its  own  particular 


276  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

peg.  Every  spike  and  tool  and  hatchet,  every  gun  and 
cutlass,  every  inch  of  bunting,  every  grain  of  powder,  every 
ounce  of  coal  is  in  the  place  where  it  can  be  most  conven- 
iently reached  and  is  most  commodiously  stowed.  It  is  a 
standing  remark,  how  so  much  can  be  put  away  in  so  small 
a  space,  and  yet  every  article  be  at  hand  at  a  moment's 
notice.  The  rule  applies  equally  to  officers  and  men. 
The  daily  form  of  "beating  to  quarters"  is  gone  through 
with,  so  that  a  roll  of  the  drum  may,  at  any  time,  summon 
every  man  to  the  post  which  he  is  to  occupy  in  action, 
and  impress  upon  him  a  perfect  understanding  of  what  he 
is  to  do  there  when  that  time  comes.  Thus  the  ship  may 
be  put  into  perfect  fighting  condition  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  a  land  pugilist  to  roll  up  his  sleeves. 

Sometimes  the  form  of  "beating  to  quarters"  varies. 
One  day  all  are  summoned  to  the  guns;  another,  all  are 
summoned  to  the  pumps.  Neither  a  battle,  a  fire,  nor  a 
leak  can  find  the  ship  unprepared. 

Our  cabin,  however,  is  at  present  an  exception.  Here 
the  usages  of  civil  life  have  temporarily  superseded  naval 
system,  and  here  there  is  chaos  enough  sometimes. 

Up  to  the  present  date  we  have  had  no  day  when  we  (the 
inkstand  will  not  stand  steady  on  the  table,  so  I  write  with 
pencil)  could  sit  at  table.  We  have  lived  literally  from 
hand  to  mouth.  Today  we  made  an  attempt  to  lunch  in 
the  cabin,  but  it  resulted  in  total  failure.  The  plates 
became  endowed  with  vitality,  the  herrings  turned  into 
flying-fish,  the  apples  went  off  as  if  to  fulfil  some  engage- 
ment to  play  at  tenpins,  and,  as  the  nursery  song  says, 
"the  dish  ran  away  with  the  spoon."  So,  on  the  whole, 
we  concluded  to  dine  on  deck  again,  while  the  De  Soto, 
like  the  world,  "rolls  on." 

It  is  the  inflexible  law  on  a  ship-of-war  that,  although 
the  vessel  is  well  lighted  from  stem  to  stern,  there  must  be 
no  light  not  contained  in  a  lantern,  and  there  must  be 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  277 

absolutely  no  matches.  Our  exemption  from  this  law  we 
concluded  to  put  an  end  to,  last  night,  on  seeing  a  candle 
jump  from  its  candlestick  into  the  bedclothes;  and  espe- 
cially on  learning  that  our  cabin  was  placed  just  over  the 
magazine! 

Part  of  the  same  orderly  system  of  neatness  is  the  contin- 
ual cleaning  up  that  is  going  on.  There  is  every  day  some- 
body scrubbing  up  the  brass  of  the  guns,  somebody  going 
round  with  a  pot  of  black  paint,  to  touch  up  the  boats, 
the  capstan,  and  the  rail.  This  scrupulous  neatness  of 
the  decks  reminds  one  of  the  floors  of  those  models  of 
cleanliness,  the  Shakers  at  Niskayuna. 

It  seems  that  the  reason  of  all  the  bad  weather  we  are 
having  is  because  there  are  ladies  on  board.  An  old  sailor 
recalls  the  fact  that  on  the  frigate  where  he  sailed  the 
weather  never  cleared  up  until  the  captain's  wife  was  put 
ashore.  We  are  debating,  therefore,  whether  we  are 
to  be  resigned  to  storms  as  long  as  we  shall  have  the 
ladies  on  board,  or  whether  we  shall  throw  them  over- 
board at  once. 

At  Sea,  January  7,  1866. 

A  pleasant  Sunday  morning.  A  rainbow  gives  token 
that  the  rain  is  over,  the  wind  and  sea  have  abated,  and 
the  thermometer  has  risen  to  seventy-seven  degrees.  We 
breakfast  for  the  first  time  in  the  cabin — our  first  breakfast 
this  year.  The  repast  only  varies  from  ordinary  ones  in 
the  amount  of  vigilance  required  to  keep  the  dishes  on  the 
table,  and  the  calisthenic  postures  adopted  to  keep  our 
own  seats. 

This  morning  we  have  our  first  sign  of  land.  Two  white 
birds  are  hovering  round  the  ship,  and  one  has  perched, 
for  a  moment,  on  the  masthead.  It  was  somewhere  in  this 
vicinity  that  Columbus  saw  the  same  indication  of  his 
nearness  to  the  undiscovered  land  he  sought. 


278  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

At  nine  o'clock  the  drum  beats  to  quarters  for  Sunday 
inspection.  The  men  are  neatly  dressed,  and  all  in  precise 
order.  Everything  is  carefully  scrutinized,  from  stem  to 
stern.  Then  work  is  suspended  for  the  day,  except  so 
much  as  may  be  necessary  for  the  navigation  of  the  ship. 
The  men  are  gathered  here  and  there  in  decorous  and 
cheerful  groups.  The  officers  are  sitting  reading  under  the 
awning;  quiet  reigns  throughout  the  ship.  The  whole 
scene  presents  a  Sabbath  tranquillity  that  would  do  no 
discredit  to  a  Sunday  in  a  country  village  of  New  England. 
Usually  there  is  divine  service  on  Sunday  morning,  the 
captain  officiating.  Today  as  the  weather  and  the  motion 
of  the  ship  are  not  propitious,  it  is  passed  over. 

As  the  evening  draws  on,  the  stars  come  out,  and  we  sit 
chatting  on  deck  till  late  at  night,  without  shawls  or 
overcoats,  and  hardly  able  to  realize  that  it  is  not  summer. 

Off  Porto  Rico,  Jan.  8,  1866. 

At  four  this  morning  the  captain  notified  us,  according 
to  promise,  that  we  could  now  see  the  Southern  Cross. 
We  were  soon  on  the  moonlit  deck,  and  found  a  calmer  sea 
and  cloudless  sky.  Away  off  in  the  south  were  the  four 
bright  stars  forming  the  brilliant  constellation  that 
the  United  States  never  look  upon.  Below  it,  in  the  dim 
distance,  was  an  obscure  dark  line,  to  which  the  captain 
pointed:  "That  is  Porto  Rico." 

January  8th,  12  M. 

Decidedly  we  are  in  the  tropics.  To-day  we  realize  it. 
Blue  waves,  bright  skies,  and  scorching  sun.  The  mer- 
cury touches  eighty-seven  degrees.  The  wind  has  sunk 
into  a  soft  summer  breeze.  Thin  clothes  are  in  demand. 
The  captain  dons  his  straw  hat,  and  the  doctor  his  white 
pantaloons.  In  the  evening  there  are  flashes  of  heat- 
lightning  near  the  distant  horizon.  On  our  starboard  side 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  279 

the  zodiacal  light  streams  up  into  the  sky,  of  a  pale  red- 
dish tint  somewhat  resembling  a  mild  aurora  borealis. 
Ice-water  becomes  a  staple  luxury.  Meats  have  lost  their 
relish,  and  at  table  we  dwell  upon  pleasing  anticipations  of 
oranges  and  bananas.  Conversing  of  some  recent  event 
at  Washington,  it  was  referred  to  as  having  occurred  "last 
winter"  before  we  remembered  that  this  winter  is  not  over 
yet,  and  that  this  is  not  July. 

Our  monotonous  sea  view  was  relieved  this  morning 
by  the  appearance  at  the  east  of  us  of  the  rocky  little  isle 
of  Derecho,  uninhabited  save  by  gannets  and  sea-gulls. 
We  have  entered  the  Mona  Passage,  and  are  now  coast- 
ing along  the  shores  of  Porto  Rico.  We  can  only  see 
that  they  are  uneven  in  height  and  barren  toward  the 
crest,  but  luxuriant  in  vegetation  at  the  foot,  and  that  blue 
mountains  rise  behind  them.  We  have  scanned  them 
with  telescope,  but  can  see  no  cities,  villages,  or  houses, 
either  because  we  are  too  distant  or  because  there  are 
none  there  to  see.  To  the  west  of  us  the  dim  outline 
of  the  island  of  Mona,  lying  in  the  centre  of  the  Mona 
Passage,  and  beyond  that  is,  though  invisible  to  us,  the 
coast  of  San  Domingo. 

So  the  scene  of  our  adventures  changes.  We  are  no 
longer  on  the  open  Atlantic  Ocean.  Under  the  lee  of 
Porto  Rico,  we  are  cruising  in  the  Caribbean  Sea,  that 
favourite  scene  of  the  fearful  tales  of  the  once  famous 
buccaneers,  the  Caribs,  and  the  pirates  of  the  Spanish 
Main. 

Under  the  lee  of  Porto  Rico  the  wind  is  shut  off,  and 
the  sea  is  calm,  like  one  of  our  lakes.  Peering  down  into 
its  blue  depths  this  morning,  a  look-out  shouted  that  he 
saw  bottom.  The  bell  instantly  sounded  the  signal  to 
stop  the  engine,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  excited 
and  hasty  movement.  When  the  paddle-wheels  ceased 
motion,  one  looking  over  the  side  of  the  ship  down  through 


280  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

the  clear  water  could  easily  see  the  irregular  whitened 
patches  of  sand  and  coral.  We  felt  our  way  cautiously  by 
the  lead  for  a  while,  and  presently  the  chant  of  "By 
the  mark,  five!"  "By  the  mark,  seven!"  "By  the  deep, 
ten!"  "By  the  deep,  twelve!"  relieved  us  from  our  ap- 
prehensions. 

Latitude,  today,  18  degrees.  We  are  below  Cuba  and 
the  greater  part  of  Mexico.  We  are  farther  south  than 
the  great  African  desert,  and  about  in  the  latitude  of 
Timbuctoo. 

January  8th.     Evening. 

All  this  bright  summer  afternoon  we  have  been  running 
along  the  shore  of  Porto  Rico.  The  ship  hardly  makes 
more  than  a  ripple  in  the  quiet  sea,  and  we  sit  on  deck 
under  the  awning,  fanned  by  the  gentlest  of  breezes, 
watching  the  varying  outline  of  the  coast,  reading  and 
chatting  about  its  character  and  eventful  history.  As  we 
draw  nearer  to  the  shore  we  can  observe  that  the  mountain 
ranges  run  from  east  to  west,  and  that  the  broad,  level 
country  between  their  base  and  the  sea  is  covered  with 
luxuriant  growth  of  sugar-cane,  palms,  and  coffee-trees. 

Porto  Rico  is  a  fertile  and  productive  island,  with  good 
harbours  but  few  great  towns.  It  has  a  great  deal  of  trade 
in  sugar,  coffee,  and  tobacco,  principally  with  the  United 
States.  Columbus  discovered  it  in  the  same  year  that  he 
discovered  Cuba.  But  it  has  always  occupied  a  secondary 
place  in  public  estimation  and  in  the  march  of  historical 
events.  And  yet,  if  the  statistics  of  the  Porto  Riquenos 
themselves  are  reliable,  it  may  challenge  comparison.  Its 
soil  is  claimed  to  produce  much  more  to  the  acre  than  Cuba. 
Its  climate  is  asserted  to  be  much  more  salubrious.  As 
regards  snakes,  it  is  a  rival  of  "Ould  Erin,"  for  there 
is  said  to  be  no  poisonous  reptile  in  its  borders.  Even  in 
the  matter  of  fidelity,  it  beats  the  "ever  faithful  isle," 


Our  West  Indian  Cruise  281 

for  it  has  been  three  centuries  and  a  half  under  the  flag  of 
Castile,  and  never  strayed  away  to  the  embrace  of  invader 
or  revolutionist.  The  English  made  a  lodgment  on  it 
once,  but  the  mortality  among  the  troops  was  so  great 
that  they  were  withdrawn,  which  would  seem  to  prove  that 
the  climate,  so  salubrious  for  Spaniards,  does  not  agree 
equally  well  with  Englishmen.  Then  there  was  an 
attempted  revolution  in  1820,  but  it  languished  and  died 
without  ever  coming  to  power. 

But  the  romantic  period  in  the  history  of  Porto  Rico  was 
in  the  days  of  Ponce  de  Leon;  for  this  was  his  island. 
As  we  look  off  toward  the  distant  mountains  over  which 
the  golden  sunshine  is  streaming  with  such  mellow  tints, 
we  recall  his  golden  visions.  How  he  and  his  followers 
went  there  from  Santo  Domingo  to  seek  the  precious 
metal,  perhaps  to  find  the  "El  Dorado."  How  they 
fortified  themselves  against  the  deadly  poisoned  arrows, 
which  the  Indians  were  said  to  dip  in  the  juice  of  the 
manchineel,  so  that  they  caused  the  instant  death  of 
whomsoever  they  wounded.  How  the  poor  savages, 
when  they  saw  the  gallant  and  glittering  Spanish  warriors, 
forgot  or  forbore  to  use  their  poisoned  arrows,  supersti- 
tiously  believing  that  the  white  men  were  invincible  and 
immortal,  and  if  killed  would  come  to  life  again — a  belief 
in  which  they  were  strengthened  by  seeing  that  as  fast 
as  the  Spaniards  perished,  fresh  ones  came  down  to 
join  them  from  heaven,  or  from  Santo  Domingo,  which 
was  the  same  thing  as  far  as  they  were  concerned.  How 
the  docile  islanders,  submitting,  were  made  slaves,  and 
compelled  to  dig  for  gold,  until  their  cruel  taskmasters 
had  done  to  death  half  a  million  of  them.  How  Ponce  de 
Leon  ransacked  the  golden  sands  of  the  rivers,  and  explored 
the  mountain  rocks  until  he  had  gold  to  his  heart's  content, 
sacks  and  bags  full.  How  he  was  seized,  then,  with  the 
popular  delusion  of  his  time,  of  seeking  the  "Fountain  of 


282  Our  West  Indian  Cruise 

Youth, "  whose  waters  insure  perpetual  life  and  strength 
and  beauty.  How  he  interrogated  the  simple  Indians,  who 
were  ready  to  acknowledge  anything  he  demanded  of 
them,  and  they  told  him  the  fountain  was  on  an  island 
away  off  to  the  north  and  west.  How  he  fitted  out  an 
expedition,  and  went  off  to  the  north  and  west,  cruising 
through  the  Bahamas  and  Bermudas,  going  from  island 
to  island,  and  tasting  spring  after  spring,  but  everyday 
getting  older  and  older  instead  of  younger  and  younger. 
How,  when  he  was  almost  despairing,  there  rose  out  of 
the  sea  on  Easter  morning  a  radiant  vision  of  an  "island" 
of  enchanting  beauty,  covered  with  such  majestic  trees, 
carpeted  with  such  rare  verdure,  and  gemmed  with  such 
charming  flowers  as  never  mortal  man  beheld  before. 
How  he  landed  on  it  and  took  possession  of  it,  and  called 
it ' '  Florida ' ' — the  name  we  call  it  by  to  this  day.  How  he 
celebrated  high  mass,  and  thanked  Our  Lady  and  Santiago 
and  all  the  saints  and  angels  for  having  brought  him,  at 
last,  to  the  land  of  the  "Fountain  of  Youth."  How 
months  afterward  he  sailed  into  the  harbour  at  Porto 
Rico,  and  his  friends  rushed  down  to  greet  him  and  ask 
how  his  errand  had  prospered ;  and  how,  when  he  stepped 
ashore,  sad  and  dejected,  they  drew  back  and  dared  not 
ask  him,  for  his  grey  beard  and  wrinkled  cheeks  showed 
that  the  question  would  be  a  bitter  mockery.  True,  he 
had  discovered  the  boundless  resources  of  the  American 
continent;  but  what  is  the  American  continent  to  a  man 
who  wants  the  Fountain  of  Youth? 

And  then,  how  his  gracious  Majesty,  the  King,  who  had 
not  had  very  great  expectations  about  the  fountain,  but 
was  delighted  to  hear  of  any  addition  to  his  dominions, 
thanked  him  and  congratulated  him  on  the  discovery  of 
Florida,  and  sent  him  out  a  commission  to  be  its  governor 
and  viceroy.  How  Ponce  de  Leon  loaded  up  his  treasures 
on  two  ships,  and  sailed  back  to  Florida,  where,  like  a  wise 


St.  Thomas  283 

and  humane  governor,  he  commenced  his  reign  by  exter- 
minating his  subjects.  How  they,  being  disloyally  inclined 
to  live,  resisted  him  and  fought  him,  and,  unlike  the  Porto 
Riqueno  Indians,  did  not  hesitate  to  pour  a  shower  of 
arrows  into  the  Spanish  ranks,  one  of  which  hit  and 
mortally  wounded  Ponce  de  Leon.  And  then,  at  last, 
how  the  poor  old  man  was  dragged  down  to  his  boat  and 
carried  off  to  Havana,  to  give  up  that  life  which  neither 
his  gold  nor  his  governorship  nor  his  Fountain  of  Youth 
could  save  any  longer. 

Eight  bells,  is  it?  Then  it  is  time  to  turn  in.  And  so 
here  ends  the  journal  of  our  first  West  Indian  day. 

St.  Thomas,  Jan.  9,  1866. 

St.  Thomas.  At  six  this  morning  we  were  summoned 
on  deck  by  the  welcome  news  that  we  were  approaching  St. 
Thomas.  Looking  from  the  bow  of  the  steamer,  a  beauti- 
ful panorama  gradually  opened  before  and  around  us. 
The  sky  was  clear,  the  sea  blue  and  tranquil,  and  islands 
rising  from  it  on  every  hand,  of  varying  size  and  contour, 
some  seeming  mere  isolated  rocks,  some  resembling  green 
hillocks,  some  like  the  faint  outlines  of  distant  mountains. 
Largest  of  all,  near  us  and  directly  before  us,  was  St. 
Thomas,  with  its  high,  steep  hills  covered  with  verdure 
on  the  top,  but  here  and  there  terminating  at  the  base,  on 
the  sea,  in  abrupt,  craggy  cliffs  and  reefs. 

As  we  came  nearer,  the  sunshine  lightened  up  two  fan- 
tastic shapes.  One  was  a  white  rock  looking  like  a  ship 
under  full  sail.  ("Sail  Rock,"  they  call  it.)  The  other 
was  a  high,  rocky  wall  of  variegated  tints — red,  yellow, 
and  purple. 

Presently  the  hills  before  us  grew  more  distinct,  houses 
began  to  appear  here  and  there,  and  gradually  the  harbour 
opened  to  view — a  deep  hollow  almost  encircled  by  the 
steep  hills,  crowned  here  and  there  by  a  fort,  a  signal 


284  St.  Thomas 

station,  or  a  picturesque-looking  villa;  while  the  town 
itself,  with  its  regular  architecture,  its  rows  of  square 
yellow  houses  with  square  red  roofs,  and  its  circular-headed 
trees,  presented  an  appearance  somewhat  resembling  that 
of  a  German  toy  village.  It  stands  on  three  hills  of  about 
equal  height,  making  three  triangular-shaped  groups  of 
buildings.  Sailing  vessels,  large  and  small,  under  various 
flags,  and  here  and  there  a  large  ocean  steamer,  were  riding 
at  anchor.  Altogether,  it  was  a  picture  so  vivid  in  colour- 
ing and  so  suddenly  spread  before  us  that  it  was  like  the 
drop  scene  of  a  theatre. 

And  now  there  comes  dancing  off  toward  us  a  little 
white  boat  bearing  a  red  flag  with  a  white  cross,  and 
rowed  by  men  with  white  clothes  and  black  faces.  In  it  is 
the  pilot.  He  climbs  the  ladder  and  gives  us  the  latest 
papers  from  New  York,  of  the  29th  of  December,  which 
are  not  so  late  as  our  own,  and  those  from  Southampton, 
which  are  later.  We  enter  the  harbour,  drop  the  anchor, 
and  are  presently  surrounded  by  boats  whose  occupants 
are  of  every  possible  shade  of  complexion ;  the  men  airy  in 
straw  hats  and  white  and  brown  linen,  the  women  gorgeous 
in  Madras  handkerchiefs  of  bright-flowered  patterns. 
These  are  voluble  and  earnest  in  their  proffers  to  do  our 
washing  or  to  furnish  us  with  tropical  fruits  of  every 
variety. 

Presently  come  various  visitors :  West  Indian  gentlemen 
with  swarthy  Spanish  features;  American  merchants  and 
sea  captains;  soon  after  the  United  States  Consul,  and 
under  his  guidance  we  row  ashore,  leaving  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  Navy  Department  for  the  more  accustomed  one 
of  the  Department  of  State. 

Everything  on  shore  looks  quaint,  bizarre,  and  odd  to 
our  American  eyes.  It  is  a  medley  of  all  nations,  races, 
and  languages.  Narrow,  crooked  streets,  of  hard,  dry 
earth,  run  between  rows  of  Spanish-  or  Moorish-looking 


St.  Thomas  285 

houses,  with  thick,  strong  walls,  arched  doorways  and 
windows.  They  are  rarely  more  than  one  or  two  stories 
high.  No  carriages  and  no  waggons;  but  here  and  there 
a  horse  or  a  donkey,  loaded  with  sugar-canes  projecting 
all  around  him  like  the  quills  of  a  porcupine.  Crowds  of 
negroes,  of  mulattoes,  and  of  people  of  all  shades  of  colour 
are  traversing  the  streets  in  a'l  directions,  all  vociferating, 
gesticulating,  laughing,  talking,  shouting,  at  once.  Some 
of  the  women  are  carrying  burdens  on  their  heads.  Most 
of  the  men  are  lounging  lazily.  None  seem  to  have  any 
especial  aim  or  purpose;  but  they  pass  and  repass,  go  and 
come,  and  perpetually  reappear,  now  in  one  group,  now  in 
another,  now  on  the  sidewalk,  now  on  the  street,  but  always 
shouting,  talking,  and  laughing  at  the  longest  possible 
range  and  on  the  highest  possible  key. 

Some  are  standing  in  the  sun  munching  bananas, 
some  sitting  down  in  the  shade  and  sucking  long  sticks 
of  sugar-cane.  Their  language  is  generally  English,  but 
with  Spanish  accent  and  negro  intonation  that  make 
it  impossible  for  a  newcomer  to  understand.  Many  of 
them  are  traders.  A  man  requires  no  other  capital  than 
a  tub  at  the  street  corner,  half  filled  with  bananas,  cane, 
oranges,  cocoanuts,  sapodillas,  and  other  fruits,  plucked 
from  trees  that  grow  wild  on  the  hillsides.  A  woman 
generally  carries  her  stock  on  a  board  placed  on  her  head. 
This  she  balances  with  the  utmost  ease  and  precision, 
almost  unconsciously,  walking  with  an  erect,  queenly 
gait,  but  without  restraint,  pausing  now  and  then  to  drop 
a  courtesy,  or  exchange  a  remark,  or  make  a  bargain 
with  perfect  self-possession,  and  spilling  nothing,  however 
great  the  crowd  or  haste  may  be. 

We  stopped  at  the  hotel  to  rest  a  moment,  and  then 
climbed  the  hill  toward  the  residence  of  the  consul,  which 
stands  on  a  fine  airy  plateau  overlooking  the  bay. 

The  houses  at  St.  Thomas  are  well  built,  and  are  pecul- 


286  St.  Thomas 

iarly  adapted  to  the  climate.  One,  or  sometimes  two 
stories  high,  most  of  them  have  windows  and  doors  on 
every  side,  to  catch  every  breath  of  air  and  give  every 
facility  for  ventilation.  For  the  same  reason,  the  rooms 
on  a  floor  are  so  arranged  as  to  be  practically  thrown  into 
one,  and  this  one  is  opened  up  to  the  rafters  of  the  roof. 
It  has  a  strange  look  to  Northern  eyes,  especially  as  there 
is  no  fireplace,  no  chimney,  no  place  even  for  a  stovepipe. 
Generally  the  cellar  walls  are  of  solid  masonry,  and  a 
substantial  flight  of  stone  or  brick  steps  leads  to  the  upper 
door.  Thus,  in  earthquakes  and  hurricanes,  the  family 
has  only  to  retire  to  this  basement  stronghold  to  feel 
secure,  and  the  superstructure  may  topple  down  or  blow 
away,  if  it  chooses.  But  such  events  are  very  rare.  The 
houses,  for  the  most  part,  have  apparently  stood  for  forty 
or  fifty  years  without  being  destroyed  by  any  elemental 
convulsion. 

Within,  all  arrangements  wear  the  same  tropical  aspect. 
No  carpets,  except  a  rug  under  the  centre  table.  No 
curtains  to  obstruct  the  windows,  but  cool  easy-chairs  and 
lounges,  fans,  blinds,  shades,  and  whatever  else  may 
conduce  to  keeping  cool. 

The  dooryard  and  garden  are  as  novel  as  the  house. 
There  is  a  profusion  of  shrubs  and  flowers  and  trees,  hardly 
one  of  which  can  be  recognized  as  having  been  seen  at 
home.  It  is  January,  yet  the  flowers  are  abundant.  It  is 
winter,  and  yet  everything  is  green.  It  is  not  the  season 
of  fruits;  yet  fruits  hang  everywhere,  tempting  the  touch 
and  the  eye.  There  is  the  cocoanut,  the  palm,  the  banana, 
the  orange,  the  lemon,  the  shaddock,  the  forbidden  fruit, 
the  soursop,  the  lime,  the  sapodilla,  the  plantain,  the 
coffee  tree,  the  cotton  tree,  the  India-rubber  tree,  the 
agave,  the  guava,  and  a  hundred  others,  to  us  new  and 
unknown. 

Luxuriant  vines  and  creepers  trail  up  and  down  the  walls, 


St.  Thomas  287 

among  them  roses  and  jessamines,  the  only  two  familiar 
acquaintances  we  meet.  The  walks  are  bordered  with 
large  conch  shells,  here  worth  only  a  few  cents  a  hundred, 
though  with  us  so  rare  and  valuable.  The  cacti  in  varied 
profusion  climb  up  the  angles  of  the  house  and  wall,  of 
dimensions  that  make  those  of  our  conservatories  look 
dwarf-like. 

Leaving  the  Consulate,  we  descended  the  hill  to  call  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Phillips,  an  American  merchant,  who 
kindly  offered  to  place  it  at  our  disposition  during  our 
stay.  Here  was  a  pretty  children's  party  going  on,  in 
celebration  of  the  ninth  birthday  of  his  little  daughter. 
Some  twenty  or  thirty  boys  and  girls  composed  the 
guests.  Music  and  dancing,  and  sweets  of  all  classes, 
graced  the  entertainment. 

Thence  we  take  a  walk  through  the  streets,  looking  at 
the  shops  and  the  churches.  Of  the  latter  there  are 
many,  for  the  town  is  composed  of  all  religions,  as  of  all 
nationalities. 

The  Episcopal,  the  Catholic,  the  Lutheran,  the  Metho- 
dist, the  Baptist,  the  Jew,  are  all  represented  in  the  church 
edifices ;  and  looking  down  the  line  of  wharves,  one  sees 
the  Spanish  flag,  the  English,  the  American,  the  French, 
the  Russian,  the  Italian,  the  Swedish,  the  Hamburg,  the 
Bremen,  the  Dutch,  the  Chilian,  the  Peruvian,  the  Co- 
lombian, the  Brazilian,  the  Mexican,  the  Haytian,  and  I 
know  not  how  many  more,  waving  over  the  offices  of  their 
respective  consuls. 

On  returning  to  our  ship  we  found  all  these  consuls, 
who  had  come  on  board  in  a  body  with  the  Danish  gover- 
nor of  the  island.  The  latter,  with  his  aides,  on  reaching 
the  deck,  was  duly  honoured  with  a  salute,  to  which  the  fort 
— a  picturesque,  old-fashioned  work — responded  through 
the  mouths  of  old-fashioned  guns,  cast  long  before  the 
days  of  Parrott  and  Dahlgren. 


288  St.  Thomas 

Other  visitors  followed — the  officers  of  ships,  the 
merchants,  the  citizens,  the  officials,  travellers,  etc.  After 
that,  another  row  to  the  town,  and  a  glance  at  the  fish 
market — as  curious  in  its  products  as  the  garden.  Fish  of 
form  and  colour  unknown  in  Washington  Market,  some 
brilliant  crimson,  some  bright  green,  blue,  white,  and 
yellow,  reminding  one  of  those  enchanted  fish  described  in 
the  Arabian  Nights'  tale  of  The  Fisherman  and  the  Genie. 
We  had  some  fried  for  dinner,  and  found  them  good 
eating,  though,  unlike  their  celebrated  counterparts,  they 
did  not  turn  into  princes  and  princesses. 

St.  Thomas,  January  loth. 

The  night  has  been  enlivened  by  the  coaling  of  the 
steamer.  Like  everything  else  at  St.  Thomas,  this  com- 
monplace business  here  takes  on  a  picturesque  aspect. 
The  labourers  are  men  with  barrows  and  women  with 
baskets,  which  they  carry  on  their  heads,  and  they  march 
on  board  in  procession  by  moonlight,  to  the  sound  of  the 
fife  and  violin,  empty  their  coal  into  the  bunkers,  and 
march  off  again.  For  a  night's  work  they  receive  a  dollar 
and  a  half  apiece. 

Today  is  raining  and  showery  and  windy.  Instead  of 
the  usual  trade  wind  from  the  eastward,  we  have  a  north- 
wester blowing  down  from  the  hills.  To  us  it  seems 
pleasantly  cool  after  the  heat  of  yesterday.  To  the  West 
Indians  it  seems  chilly  and  uncomfortable.  We  are 
amused  at  every  step  by  the  difference  in  our  respective 
notions  of  temperature.  One  gentleman  gravely  informs 
us  that  he  has  experienced  a  cold  uncomfortable  night, 
the  basis  of  his  complaint  being  that  he  was  obliged  to 
cover  himself  with  a  single  blanket  and  spread. 

Another  warns  us  against  the  bad  effects  of  a  draught  of 
cold  air,  and  proceeds  to  close  doors  and  windows  against 
what  seems  to  us  the  faintest  and  most  desirable  of 


St.  Thomas  289 

zephyrs.  When  we  propose  to  take  a  walk,  they  tell  us  it 
will  occupy  twenty  minutes,  and,  to  our>  surprise,  it  occu- 
pies but  five  at  our  usual  rate  of  progression.  Invalids 
though  we  are,  we  walk  distances  up  and  down  the  hills 
through  the  misty  air,  which  our  St.  Thomas  friends 
sitting  sheltered  under  verandas  and  awnings  think 
extraordinary  and  fatiguing. 

To  visit  a  rural  seat  which  a  patriotic  American  has 
rented  and  christened  "Bunker  Hill,"  we  take  a  two- 
horse  carriage,  one  of  the  two  vehicles  of  that  sort  that  St. 
Thomas  boasts.  At  the  foot  of  the  acclivity,  however,  our 
horses  stop  and  positively  refuse  to  go  one  step  farther, 
apparently  thinking  this  eminence  as  difficult  to  be  gained 
as  its  historical  prototype  was. 

So  we  ascend  on  foot,  and  are  amply  repaid  for  our 
trouble  by  the  magnificent  view  of  the  harbour,  the  islands, 
the  shipping,  and  the  town  which  lies  at  our  feet.  Behind 
and  around  us  are  hills,  once  cultivated,  but  now  neg- 
lected and  desolate,  covered  with  rank  grasses,  wild  herbs, 
and  cactuses  of  every  kind,  some  erect  and  stiff,  some 
recumbent,  trailing  or  climbing,  many  in  flower,  and  a 
few  bearing  their  ripened,  prickly  fruit. 

On  two  of  the  heights  near  the  town  are  a  couple  of 
ancient-looking  castellated  edifices  which  were  originally 
built  as  strongholds  by  the  buccaneers.  One  is  called 
"Blackbeard's  Castle, "  and  is  popularly  assumed  to  have 
belonged  to  the  renowned  pirate  of  that  name.  The 
other  has  a  still  more  doubtful  legend  which  describes 
it  as  the  veritable  mansion  of  that  terrible  Bluebeard  of 
nursery  fame;  and  the  dungeon  of  the  poor  lady  who  tried 
one  key  too  many  is  pointed  out,  as  well  as  the  tower 
from  which  "Sister  Ann"  descried  the  approaching  cloud 
of  dust  that  heralded  the  coming  rescue. 

From  the  fictitious  chieftain  we  go  to  visit  a  real  one. 
In  a  pleasant,  airy  residence,  overlooking  the  bay,  we  find 


290  St.  Thomas 

the  Mexican  ex-President,  General  Santa  Anna,  who  had 
sent  congratulations  and  kind  wishes  to  the  Secretary  of 
State  on  his  arrival.  He  rises  from  his  table,  covered 
with  papers  and  manuscripts,  to  bid  us  welcome  with 
Castilian  courtesy,  and  then  sits  down  to  chat  awhile  on 
the  past,  present,  and  future  of  Mexico.  He  is  a  large, 
tall,  fine-looking  man,  of  Spanish  features  and  complexion, 
dark  keen  eyes  and  dark  hair,  and  showing  no  sign  of 
bodily  infirmity  save  a  slight  limp.  One  would  pronounce 
him  between  fifty  and  sixty,  instead  of  being,  as  he  really 
is,  nearly  seventy.  Briefly  recapitulating  his  position  in 
reference  to  Mexican  national  politics,  he  says  he  is,  and 
always  has  been,  a  Republican  and  a  Conservative;  that 
his  people  have  failed  thus  far  in  maintaining  their  inde- 
pendence because  they  lacked  organization  and  a  head; 
that  partisan  dissensions  between  them  opened  the  way  to 
the  French  invasion,  but  that  the  French  domination  is 
repugnant  to  them;  that  Jaurez  is  an  uneducated  Indian, 
once  an  hostler,  incapable  of  grasping  the  high  responsi- 
bilities of  his  present  position,  or  of  uniting  the  Mexican 
people  in  his  support;  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Empire 
of  Maximilian  is  a  delusion  and  a  failure,  that  it  loses 
strength  instead  of  gaining  it,  and  is  a  drain  instead  of  a 
source  of  revenue  to  the  French  exchequer;  that  the  day 
is  approaching,  perhaps  not  far  remote,  when  the  Mexicans 
will  reunite  for  nationality  and  liberty;  that  when  they  do 
so  unite,  they  cannot  but  succeed ;  that  he,  for  himself,  is 
impatient  for  the  accomplishment  of  that  patriotic  pur- 
pose; that  once  he  sacrificed  one  leg  in  fighting  for  his 
country,  and  is  now  ready,  if  need  be,  to  sacrifice  the  other 
in  the  same  manner;  that  he  hopes  in  this  coming  contest 
for  American  sympathy  and  American  aid.  Finally,  he 
places  in  our  hands  a  copy  of  his  recent  Proclamation,  in 
which  his  views  and  his  purposes  are  even  more  fully  set 
forth. 


St.  Thomas  291 

From  Santa  Anna's  we  descend  the  hill  to  Mr.  Phillips's, 
and  thence  to  the  wharf.  While  waiting  for  the  boat,  to 
return  on  board,  we  are  amused  by  the  scene  of  street  life 
passing  before  us.  A  shower  comes  up,  and  then  a  sudden 
gathering  of  incongruous  characters  for  shelter  under  the 
awning  of  the  opposite  store.  A  crowd  of  women,  all 
turbaned  with  Madras  handkerchiefs,  bearing  all  sorts 
of  burdens  on  their  heads,  are  standing  conversing,  or 
rather  loudly  jabbering  at  each  other,  in  that  negro  dia- 
lect which  is  the  principal  sound  heard  at  St.  Thomas. 
None  of  them  seem  to  be  in  the  least  incommoded  by  the 
heavy  weights  they  carry,  and  walk  about,  gesticulate, 
and  laugh  and  talk,  without  even  taking  the  trouble  to 
set  their  burdens  down  on  the  ground  while  they  are 
waiting  there.  A  caballero,  well  dressed,  but  swarthy, 
unceremoniously  rides  his  horse  right  in  amongst  them  on 
the  sidewalk,  under  the  awning,  and  stands  there,  his  com- 
ing evidently  being  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course.  Two 
drunken  negroes  get  up  a  vociferous  quarrel,  whose 
threatening  tones  and  gestures  would  seem  to  imply 
immediate  resort  to  blows;  but  neither  contemplates  any 
such  result,  and  they  content  themselves  with  noisy 
demonstrations  toward  each  other  at  a  distance  of  fifty 
feet.  Then  there  comes  a  lady  in  the  height  of  extrava- 
gant fashion,  dressed  in  delicate  light  fabrics,  a  head-dress 
of  Parisian  elegance,  a  train  of  court  dimensions,  picking 
her  way  through  the  mud  in  satin  shoes.  She  is  a  mulatto ; 
as  is  a  gentleman  in  a  high  shirt-collar,  white  coat,  and 
pantaloons,  and  with  a  dignified  step  and  businesslike 
air,  who  is  pointed  out  to  us  as  one  of  the  richest  men  of 
the  island. 

We  row  back  to  the  ship,  and  find  that  in  the  gale  she 
has  had  a  narrow  escape  from  serious  trouble.  She  had 
dragged  her  anchor  and  drifted  nearly  into  collision  with 
the  English  steamer,  and  subsequently  was  in  danger  of 


292  St.  Thomas 

getting  ashore.  The  captain  had  by  vigorous  efforts 
rescued  her,  and  she  was  now  securely  anchored  again  at  a 
little  distance  from  her  former  ground. 

At  five  this  afternoon  we  returned  to  the  town  to  dine 
with  the  Governor.  He  had  kindly  sent  his  carriage, 
which  was  in  waiting  for  us  at  the  wharf.  A  salute  of 
fifteen  guns  from  the  fort  welcomed  the  Secretary  of  State. 
The  road  led  us  up  a  winding  but  not  steep  ascent,  along 
the  hillside  and  through  the  woods,  to  his  house,  which 
has  a  commanding  position  on  the  very  top,  and  overlooks 
the  whole  city.  We  found  his  family  agreeable,  refined, 
hospitable,  warm  in  their  Danish  patriotism,  as  well  as 
fully  observant  and  sympathetic  in  our  American  contest. 
His  two  daughters  had  just  returned  to  the  island,  having 
finished  their  education  in  Copenhagen.  The  dinner 
party  consisted  only  of  his  family  and  official  aides,  our- 
selves, and  the  captain  of  our  ship.  The  dinner  was  like  a 
dinner  in  Washington,  except  that  (like  ourselves)  the 
host  and  hostess  undervalued  the  productions  of  their  own 
region,  and  set  before  their  guests  foreign  delicacies  arti- 
ficially preserved.  It  closed  with  the  pleasant  Danish 
custom,  the  words  "Well  bekommen, "  and  handshaking 
with  each  guest. 

We  returned  by  what  looked  like  a  perilous  breakneck 
ride,  the  night  being  pitch  dark,  and  the  road  winding 
by  abrupt  turns  around  the  hillside  and  along  the  edge  of 
the  cliff.  Had  we  been  endeavouring  to  find  the  way  our- 
selves, we  should  have  infallibly  driven  over  the  precipice. 
But  the  Governor's  two  white  horses  (the  only  things  visi- 
ble to  us)  knew  the  way  perfectly  and  followed  it,  bringing 
us  safely  back  to  the  wharf. 

January  loth,  1866. 

Yonder,  on  the  heights  overlooking  the  town,  stand  the 
ruins  of  the  two  ancient  stone  structures  built  and  occu- 


St.  Thomas  293 

pied,  two  centuries  ago  by  the  buccaneers.  While  the 
sunshine  lights  up  the  jagged  outline  of  their  grey  battle- 
ments, we  sit  in  the  shade  of  this  hospitable  veranda, 
enjoying  a  delicious  breeze,  and  still  more  delicious  tropical 
fruits,  while  we  chat  with  our  companions  over  what  is 
known  here  about  the  towers  and  the  piratical  rovers 
who  built  them. 

Traditions  and  legends  of  the  buccaneers  still  abound 
in  the  West  Indies,  but  materials  for  authentic  history  of 
them  are  scanty,  for  they  were  not  much  given  to  records 
and  statistics. 

When  they  began  their  piratical  career  they  were 
few  in  numbers  and  poor  in  resources.  A  becalmed  mer- 
chant vessel  would  have  its  first  warning  of  them  by  see- 
ing a  small  boat  stealthily  and  rapidly  approaching, 
with  no  human  being  visible  above  its  sides,  and  present- 
ing only  its  sharp  bows  toward  the  ship,  so  as  to  baffle  the 
skill  of  her  gunners.  Once  alongside,  up  would  spring 
fifty  or  a  hundred  horrible-looking  villains,  armed  to  the 
teeth  with  sabres,  guns,  and  pistols,  who,  climbing  like 
cats  over  the  bulwarks,  would  pour  down  upon  the 
deck  and  commence  a  bloody  massacre  of  all  they  found 
there.  Desperadoes  by  profession,  they  would  recklessly 
attack  even  superior  numbers,  trusting  to  the  suddenness 
of  the  surprise  to  achieve  success.  Sometimes  their 
captain  would  scuttle  his  boat  as  he  approached  the  ship, 
leaving  his  men  only  the  alternative  of  drowning  or  of 
boarding  and  overpowering  the  crew.  Sometimes  he 
would  be  ready,  with  lighted  match,  to  fire  the  magazine, 
in  case  the  fight  should  go  against  him,  and  so  send  both 
the  buccaneers  and  their  victims  to  swift  destruction. 
When  the  crew  surrendered,  if  they  did  so  without  resist- 
ance, and  without  concealment  of  whatever  valuables 
might  be  on  board,  they  were  sometimes  spared  and  set 
ashore;  but  even  this  was  a  matter  of  caprice  with  the 


294  StThomas 

pirates,  who,  for  the  most  part,  seem  to  have  preferred  to 
butcher  or  throw  them  overboard  at  once.  All  sorts  of 
wild  and  some  very  improbable  stories  are  told  of  the 
atrocities  of  Morgan,  Montbar,  De  Basco,  Lolonois,  Law- 
rence, and  other  pirate  captains  who  have  come  to  special 
renown,  and  who  still  figure  with  incredible  vices  and  im- 
possible virtues  in  the  pages  of  popular  fiction. 

As  a  general  thing,  outward-bound  European  vessels 
were  not  molested  by  them,  for  these  had  but  little  spoil  to 
invite  attack.  Their  favourite  prizes  were  the  treasure- 
laden  galleons  from  the  Spanish  Main,  whose  stores  of 
metals  and  precious  stones  were  at  once  their  most  profit- 
able and  most  portable  harvest. 

At  first  they  used  to  rendezvous  at  the  little  island  of 
Tortuga,  off  the  north  shore  of  Hay  ti,  where  they  fortified 
themselves.  But  very  soon  then*  captures  supplied  them 
with  vessels,  arms,  and  wealth,  which  enabled  them  to 
enlarge  their  operations  and  establish  themselves  at 
different  points  on  various  islands,  where  they  could 
divide  their  booty,  carouse,  riot,  and  squander  it,  and  then 
plan  new  schemes  for  getting  more.  Other  reckless  char- 
acters from  the  islands  and  from  Europe  flocked  in  to  join 
them,  and  before  long  they  became  masters  of  the  Carib- 
bean. Emboldened  by  their  success  on  the  sea,  they  next 
turned  their  attention  to  the  land,  and  fitted  out  expe- 
ditions to  attack  and  ravage  the  Spanish  and  Dutch  settle- 
ments. Maracaibo,  Porto  Bello,  Carthagena,  Campeachy, 
and  Vera  Cruz  were  successively  plundered ;  and,  crossing 
the  Isthmus,  they  took  Panama,  and  inaugurated  a  new 
series  of  piratical  operations  up  and  down  the  Pacific 
coast.  It  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the  feebleness  of 
European  naval  strength  and  the  remoteness  of  the  West 
Indies  at  that  date,  that  Spain  and  Holland,  two  chief  mari- 
time powers  in  Europe,  were  unable  to  arrest,  or  even 
check,  the  exploits  of  these  bands  of  piratical  adventurers. 


St.  Thomas  295 

Their  career  culminated  at  last,  however,  as  many  a 
better  one  has,  by  their  "killing  the  goose  that  laid 
the  golden  eggs. "  When  they  had  captured  or  sunk  the 
vessels  engaged  in  carrying  treasure,  and  robbed  and 
burned  the  towns  where  it  was  stored,  the  very  impunity 
with  which  they  had  done  it  discouraged  the  renewal  of 
the  commercial  ventures  so  entirely  at  the  mercy  of 
such  unscrupulous  marauders.  "Trade  diminished,  ships 
decreased  in  number,  and  towns  were  no  longer  built 
and  supplied  to  be  sacked."  The  buccaneers  gradually 
found  themselves  without  business.  They  scattered  in 
various  directions ;  and  those  that  escaped  the  hangman,  or 
violent  death  in  drunken  brawls,  were  reduced  to  honest 
industry  for  a  living.  So  ended  that  bloody  page  of  West 
Indian  history;  and  so  the  two  old  towers  at  St.  Thomas 
fell  into  dilapidation  and  decay,  as  we  see  them  today. 

In  the  garden  they  point  out  to  us  the  coffee-tree  with 
its  leaves  of  glossy  green,  like  our  laurel.  When  the  fruit 
is  ripening  it  looks  not  unlike  a  cherry,  red,  sweet,  and 
palatable.  The  preparation  of  the  coffee  for  market  is 
simple.  The  fruit  is  gathered,  dried,  passed  between 
rollers  which  remove  the  skin  and  pulp  from  the  kernel, 
then  passed  through  a  fanning-mill  to  separate  the  chaff, 
and  it  is  ready  for  use.  But  the  longer  it  is  kept  the  better 
it  becomes,  for  age  improves  coffee  as  it  does  wine.  It  is 
claimed  here  that  the  superiority  of  the  Mocha  coffee  is  due 
to  this  cause,  the  fruit  being  no  better  except  that  it  is 
preserved  longer  before  being  shipped. 

The  coffee-tree  of  Arabia  is  the  parent  of  all  the  others. 
The  Dutch  carried  it  from  there  to  Batavia,  and  after- 
ward from  Batavia  to  the  West  Indies.  They  presented 
two  trees  to  the  King  of  France,  which  were  kept  as  curi- 
osities in  the  royal  garden.  When  a  failure  of  crops 
in  Martinique  threatened  that  island  with  disaster  unless 
some  new  cultivation  was  resorted  to,  the  French  Govern- 


296  St.  Thomas 

ment  sent  out  a  messenger  bearing  two  shoots  from  the 
royal  coffee-trees.  The  voyage  was  long  and  tedious, 
the  vessel's  supply  of  water  was  scanty,  and  the  King's 
messenger  only  saved  his  coffee-trees  by  dividing  with 
them  his  daily  allowance  of  it.  He  did  save  them,  and 
they  were  the  original  stock  of  all  the  coffee-trees  in  Mar- 
tinique and  San  Domingo. 

The  coffee-tree  likes  the  same  tropical  climate  as  the 
sugar-cane,  but  the  sugar-cane  prefers  the  lowland,  and 
the  coffee-tree  the  upland.  In  many  islands  the  two 
crops,  on  hill  and  dale,  stand  side  by  side,  presaging 
the  neighbourly  position  of  coffee-pot  and  sugar-bowl  on 
our  breakfast-tables. 

Pausing  before  a  market  woman  surrounded  by  piles  of 
tropical  fruit,  Mr.  Seward  inquired  the  price  of  her 
bananas. 

"Got  no  bananas  today,  mas'r. " 

"Are  not  these  yours,  then?"  said  he,  pointing  with  his 
cane  to  a  hugh  pile  of  the  red  fruit  so  abundant,  in  its 
season,  in  New  York  fruit  stands. 

"Bress  your  soul,  mas'r,  dose  not  bananas;  dose  is 
plantains." 

So  we  learned  that  what  we  eat  in  New  York  as  the 
banana  is,  in  fact,  the  plantain,  here  considered  not  fit 
to  be  eaten  at  all  until  it  is  cooked,  while  the  delicate 
yellow  fruit  resembling  it  is  the  real  banana;  but  as  that 
is  smaller,  and  the  American  purchaser  likes  to  get  a  good 
deal  for  his  money,  he  is  furnished  with  the  coarser  and 
cheaper  plantain. 

The  banana  and  its  kindred  fruit,  the  plantain,  are  food 
of  universal  consumption  in  the  West  Indies.  Everybody 
eats  them.  You  find  them  on  the  tables  of  the  rich,  in  the 
hovels  of  the  poor,  in  the  hands  of  the  children,  and  among 
the  rations  of  the  soldier.  Their  growth  is  exceedingly 
rapid.  Planted  from  cuttings,  the  tree  attains  its  full 


St.  Thomas  297 

size  in  a  single  year,  and  commences  bearing  its  heavy 
bunches  of  fruit. 

St.  Thomas,  January  n,  1866. 

The  little  steamer  which  runs  between  St.  Thomas  and 
Santa  Cruz  last  night  brought  over  Mr.  Moore,  our  vice- 
consul  at  Frederikstedt,  who,  with  Mr.  Walker,  our  consul 
here,  came  on  board  to  breakfast  with  us.  He  reported  a 
rough  night  of  it,  the  voyage  occupying  ten  hours.  It  is 
usually  made  in  two. 

Early  hours  are  among  the  good  habits  of  the  people  of 
St.  Thomas.  The  town  was  apparently  all  asleep  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock  last  night,  and  was  all  up  and  doing 
at  seven  this  morning. 

The  morning  was  occupied  in  visiting  the  shore,  com- 
pleting our  purchases,  dispatching  visits  of  ceremony,  and 
taking  leave  of  our  friends.  We  carry  away  from  St. 
Thomas  coffee  and  tropical  fruits,  to  which  collection  of 
West  Indian  products  Dr.  Brody  has  added  two  green 
parrots,  some  curious  minerals  and  tortoise-shells,  a  carved 
calabash,  and  some  concentrated  oil  of  bay  leaves,  suffi- 
cient to  make  bay  rum  enough  to  last  a  lifetime. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock  we  took  our  departure. 
The  trip  was  singularly  beautiful,  passing  surrounding 
islands  of  all  sizes  and  distances;  Santa  Cruz  before  us, 
St.  John's  and  Tortola  on  the  left,  and  various  little  rocky 
islets  on  the  right. 

St.  Thomas  has  been  not  inaptly  described  as  a  place 
which  is  on  the  way  to  every  other  place  in  the  West  Indies. 
To  go  anywhere,  from  anywhere  else,  you  go  first  to  St. 
Thomas.  This  is  not  merely  on  account  of  its  central 
position,  but  because  of  its  commercial  character.  It 
is  a  free  port,  and  therefore  a  favourite  place  for  both 
buyers  and  sellers  who  want  a  market.  This  brings 
shipping  and  travel,  and  makes  it  the  point  for  steam 


298  St.  Thomas 

lines  and  mail  communications,  both  with  New  York  and 
Southampton. 

The  island,  before  the  emancipation  era,  is  said  to  have 
been  agricultural.  Now  it  is  commercial,  merely.  All 
its  population,  and  all  its  activity,  is  concentrated  in  the 
town  and  in  trade.  The  hills  and  savannas,  once  occupied 
by  plantations  of  cane,  etc.,  are  now  deserted,  and  left  to 
wild  fruits  and  trees  and  grasses.  No  fences,  fields,  or 
habitations. 

Of  the  population  of  eleven  thousand,  nearly  seven- 
eighths  are  coloured  people  of  all  shades.  They  are  labour- 
ers and  traders,  as  opportunity  offers,  in  the  town,  but 
few,  if  any,  cultivators  of  the  rural  soil.  Of  the  whites, 
there  is  a  sprinkling  of  every  nationality,  each  speaking 
their  own  language;  but  the  one  prevailing  tongue  for 
business  and  social  purposes  is  English.  The  Danish 
element  is  an  inconsiderable  fraction  in  numbers,  though 
it  is  the  ruling  one,  having  all  the  civil  officials  and  the 
garrison  of  the  forts. 

The  story  of  St.  Thomas  is  briefly  this :  Just  about  two 
hundred  years  ago,  the  Danes,  finding  that  the  other 
maritime  nations  of  Europe  were  taking  possession  of  the 
islands  in  the  Caribbean  Sea,  thought  they  might  as  well 
take  one  themselves.  They  pitched  upon  St.  Thomas,  not 
because  it  had  special  attractions,  but  simply  because  it 
was  the  only  one  they  could  get,  being  remote  and  unin- 
habited. The  English  raised  some  objection  to  their 
going  even  there,  but  did  not  insist  upon  it.  So  the 
Danes  took  the  rocky  little  island  and  planted  some  colo- 
nists on  it,  who  tried  to  raise  a  few  hogsheads  of  sugar. 
There  was  a  capacious  harbour  on  the  southern  side,  but 
nobody  attached  much  importance  to  that,  for  in  those 
days  harbours  were  plenty  and  ships  were  few.  The 
Danes  left  the  port  open  to  everybody  without  commercial 
restriction,  for  the  poor  colonists  were  only  too  happy  if 


St.  Thomas  299 

anybody  would  come  into  that  unfrequented,  out-of-the- 
way  region  to  trade  with  them. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  "buccaneers"  were 
ravaging  and  plundering  on  the  Caribbean  Sea  and 
along  the  Spanish  Main,  capturing  the  gold-laden  gal- 
leons, hanging  their  captains  at  the  yardarm,  and  throw- 
ing their  crews  overboard.  But  pirates,  like  other  men, 
when  they  have  gotten  a  prize,  need  a  port  to  take  it  into. 
The  buccaneers  dared  not  take  captured  vessels  to  the 
Spanish  settlements.  They  could  not  take  them  to 
the  French  and  English  settlements,  for  those  were  on 
the  Windward  Islands,  and  they  would  have  to  beat  all  the 
way  against  the  trade  wind  blowing  "dead  ahead. " 

But  here  was  the  snug,  quiet  harbour  of  St.  Thomas,  out 
of  the  way  of  Spanish  frigates,  without  any  custom-houses 
to  molest,  or  any  courts  to  make  afraid,  and  so  placed  that 
their  craft  would  have  a  favourable  breeze,  both  going 
in  and  coming  out.  Very  soon,  therefore,  St.  Thomas 
became  the  favourite  rendezvous  of  the  buccaneers  with 
their  prizes.  Very  soon,  too,  traders  from  afar  off  snuffed 
up  the  scent  of  their  ill-gotten  gains.  As  soon  as  it  became 
generally  known  that  there  were  people  at  St.  Thomas  with 
pockets  full  of  gold  which  they  were  eager  to  squander, 
merchants  flocked  in  with  everything  that  such  folks 
would  like  to  buy.  Then  there  were  others  who  found  it 
equally  convenient — smugglers  who  wanted  a  place 
from  which  to  run  contraband  cargoes  to  Porto  Rico  and 
Santa  Cruz ;  vessels  in  distress  that  wanted  a  port  to  repair 
and  refit;  merchant  vessels,  in  time  of  war  (which  was 
nearly  all  the  time),  seeking  a  neutral  port  for  refuge 
from  the  enemy's  cruisers.  To  all  these  St.  Thomas 
offered  a  safe  anchorage  of  easy  access,  without  restric- 
tions, and  a  good  market.  It  grew  and  throve,  and 
prospered  beyond  the  anticipation  of  its  founders.  It 
was  the  one  free  port  of  the  West  Indies,  and  soon  be- 


300  St.  Thomas 

came  a  centre  of  trade.  "Free  traders"  (which  in  those 
days  included  freebooters)  brought  it  business  and  life 
and  consequence. 

In  later  years,  when  the  pirates  were  dead  and  the 
smugglers  suppressed,  and  "free  trade"  came  to  mean 
only  freedom  from  duties  and  imposts,  it  continued  to 
grow.  The  settlers  named  the  city  after  the  Danish  Queen, 
Charlotte  Amalia;  and  the  Danish  Government  wisely 
abstained  from  collecting  revenue,  preferring  to  let  nat- 
ural laws  continue  to  build  them  up  a  great  commercial 
entrep6t  there.  When  steamers  began  to  take  the  place 
of  sailing  packets,  they  naturally  followed  the  same 
channels  of  trade,  and  so  St.  Thomas  has  come  to  be  a 
place  where  steam  lines  converge.  Furthermore,  it  hap- 
pens to  be  so  centrally  placed  that  lines  drawn  from  Eng- 
land to  Central  America,  from  Spain  to  Cuba  and  Mexico, 
from  the  United  States  to  Brazil,  from  the  Windward 
Islands  to  the  Leeward  ones,  all  meet  and  cross  each 
other  there;  and  you  will  see,  riding  at  anchor  in  its  har- 
bour, steamers  from  Southampton,  from  New  York,  from 
Bordeaux,  from  Cadiz,  from  Bremen,  besides  sailing  craft 
wearing  the  flags  of  every  nation  that  "goes  down  to  the 
sea  in  ships. "  In  a  word,  St.  Thomas  is  the  result  of  three 
advantages  it  has  over  other  West  Indian  islands — a  fine 
harbour,  a  central  position,  and  freedom  of  trade. 

There  are  in  the  world  a  few  isolated  points  whose 
possession  enables  the  power  that  holds  them  to  control 
trade,  and  to  direct  naval  and  military  operations  with 
especial  advantage.  Gibraltar  and  Aden,  the  Darda- 
nelles, Sebastopol,  Panama  and  Havana,  Quebec  and  Key 
West  are  such  places.  Great  Britain  especially  has  always 
had  a  keen  eye  for  such  points.  They  have  enabled  her  to 
domineer  over  remote  regions,  very  unexpectedly  to  their 
inhabitants.  She  finds  such  an  one  in  a  sterile  rock, 
a  worthless  sand-bar,  or  narrow  strait;  and  presently  it 


St.  Thomas  301 

bristles  with  her  guns  and  forts,  and  surrounding  nations 
find  she  has  made  a  succcessful  move  in  that  great  game  of 
chess,  of  which  the  world  is  the  board  and  we  are  all  castles 
and  pawns. 

St.  Thomas  is  a  point  of  this  sort.  Happily,  it  early  fell 
into  possession  of  Denmark,  an  enterprising  power,  strong 
enough  to  keep  it,  but  not  aggressive  enough  to  use  it  as  a 
base  of  warfare.  It  has  as  peculiar  advantages  for  a  naval 
station  as  it  has  for  commercial  support.  Dangerous 
reefs  and  breakers  surround  it,  so  that  it  would  be  difficult 
to  land  troops  to  attack  it,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  repel 
such  attack  by  fortifications  on  its  commanding  heights. 
The  harbour  is  a  great  basin,  capacious  enough  for  a  small 
navy;  and  its  entrance,  though  safe  and  easy,  is  through 
a  narrow  strait,  which  even  the  diminutive  forts  and 
antiquated  ordnance  of  the  Danes  are  able  to  defend.  Its 
history  demonstrates  that  it  is  the  place  of  places  to  coal, 
repair,  refit,  and  take  refuge  from  enemies  or  storms.  It 
would  have  been  of  infinite  value  to  us  had  we  owned  it 
during  our  late  war,  and  of  great  value  to  the  Confederates 
had  they  owned  it.  It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  it  was 
in  the  possession  of  a  power  not  only  just,  but  friendly 
to  the  United  States.  Our  vessels,  however  unfairly 
treated  at  British  and  French  ports,  found  always  a  wel- 
come at  St.  Thomas,  a  place  for  repairs  and  supplies,  and 
one  that  gave  no  aid  or  comfort  to  the  rebels. 

The  early  Portuguese  and  Spanish  discoverers  were  good 
Catholics.  When  they  came  to  a  new  locality  they  gener- 
ally named  it  out  of  the  Church  calendar  in  honour,  some- 
times, of  their  own  patron  saint,  sometimes  of  the  patron 
saint  of  their  country,  sometimes  of  the  saint  on  whose 
day  the  discovery  was  made.  So  nearly  every  apostle, 
evangelist,  and  martyr  came  to  have  his  seaport,  his 
island,  cape,  or  mountain. 

Columbus  gave  to  the  first  land  he  discovered  the  title 


302  Santa  Cruz 

of  the  "Island  of  the  Holy  Saviour"  (San  Salvador). 
Cuba  he  did  not  name,  having  some  doubts  whether  it  was 
not  the  Asiatic  Cipango.  So  it  has  retained  its  aboriginal 
name  to  this  day.  Hayti,  the  island  he  prized  highest 
of  all  he  had  found,  he  affectionately  and  patriotically 
called  "La  Isla  Espafiola"  (The  Spanish  Isle).  Upon  its 
ports  he  bestowed  saintships  freely.  When  he  came  to 
this  group  of  what  seemed  to  be  a  myriad  of  little  islets, 
he  named  them  the  "Virgin  Islands,"  in  honour  of  St. 
Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand  virgin  martyrs,  whose 
bones  are  still  exhibited  to  incredulous  eyes  at  Cologne. 
Later,  when  irreverent  Dutch,  English,  and  Spanish 
navigators  got  among  them,  some  of  the  virgins  were 
rechristened,  in  detail,  with  odd  enough  names,  based 
usually  on  some  fanciful  resemblance  seen  from  the  ship's 
deck.  Thus,  one  is  "The  Hat"  (sombrero),  another  "The 
Thatch,"  while  others  are  "The  Turtle,"  "The  Crab," 
"The  Snake,"  "The  Prickly  Pear,"  "The  Fat  Girl," 
"Beef  Island, "  and  "  Jost  Van  Dykes, "  with  an  occasional 
sprinkling  of  saints— "St.  Peter,"  "St.  Thomas,"  "St. 
John,"  and  "Santa  Cruz." 

We  steamed  over  to  Santa  Cruz  before  dusk,  in  time  to 
have  a  fine  view  of  the  island,  and  of  the  harbour  of 
Frederikstedt.  But  the  wind  had  raised  an  unusual 
surf,  and  the  landing  after  dark  was  found  difficult,  and 
so  reluctantly  abandoned  till  morning.  The  harbour  is 
rather  an  open  roadstead;  and,  though  the  customary 
trade  wind  does  not  reach  or  disturb  it,  it  is  exposed 
to  high  winds  from  another  quarter. 

January  12,  1866. 

Santa  Cruz.  Early  this  morning  we  debarked  at  the 
wharf  at  Frederikstedt.  Mr.  Moore,  the  Acting  Consul, 
had  carriages  in  readiness,  and  in  them  we  traversed  the 
island  from  one  end  to  the  other. 


Santa  Cruz  303 

It  was  a  drive  of  about  twenty  miles  over  a  road  of  easy 
grade  and  curves,  and  throughout  its  whole  extent  almost 
as  smooth  as  a  floor.  On  each  side  of  it  was  a  continuous 
row  of  cocoanut  and  mountain  cabbage  palms.  Similar 
avenues  diverged  from  it  and  crossed  it  at  various  points. 

The  fields  by  the  roadside  and  as  far  as  visible  were 
planted  with  sugar-cane  and  tropical  fruits.  There  were 
no  fences  or  hedges,  and  the  general  aspect  of  the  land- 
scape was  that  of  a  great  garden,  luxuriant  vegetation 
covering  every  hill  and  dale,  with  here  and  there  a  group 
of  white  buildings  amid  the  trees. 

These  were  the  mansions  of  the  owners  of  the  sugar 
estates,  each  surrounded  by  its  mills  and  labourers'  cot- 
tages. The  labourers  themselves  were  of  all  shades  of 
colour,  all  busy,  and  for  the  most  part  tidy,  intelligent, 
and  thrifty -looking. 

Remembering  our  single  harvest  of  hay  in  the  course 
of  a  year,  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  how  many  such  harvests 
there  were  during  the  year  in  this  island.  Mr.  Moore 
could  not  say,  but,  stopping  the  carriage,  inquired  of  an 
old  negress  who  was  cutting  the  grass  around  her  cottage 
with  a  sickle,  "Auntie,  how  often  do  you  cut  the  grass 
here,  in  the  course  of  a  year?" 

"Law,  sir,  I  dunno,  I  'spect  we  cuts  it  every  time  it 
rains. " 

That  explained  why  there  were  no  haystacks.  The 
hay-harvest,  it  seems,  is  perpetual. 

This  reminded  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  accompanied 
us  of  an  experience  that  a  New  Englander  had,  who 
brought  a  hive  of  bees  here  from  the  States,  thinking 
they  would  make  honey  for  him  all  the  year  round.  But 
the  bees,  after  the  first  year's  experience,  discovered  that, 
where  there  was  no  winter,  there  was  no  need  of  laying 
up  stores  of  honey,  so  they  abandoned  the  habit  of  making 
any,  except  for  daily  use. 


304  Santa  Cruz 

A  noticeable  feature  of  the  drive  was  the  frequent 
appearance  of  schoolhouses,  at  almost  every  junction  of 
crossroads.  They  compared  very  favourably  with 
country  schoolhouses  in  New  York  and  New  England. 

It  was  about  noon  when  we  arrived  at  Christianstedt. 
This  is  a  seat  of  government,  whose  offices  are  in  a  sub- 
stantial and  stately  edifice. 

The  Governor  received  his  guests  with  military  honours 
and  a  collation.  Here  we  met  some  Americans  who 
were  spending  the  winter  in  the  genial  climate  of  Santa 
Cruz.  Among  them  was  our  old  friend  Mr.  Wells  of 
express  fame,  and  the  founder  of  Wells  College  at 
Aurora. 

After  an  hour  or  two  spent  in  looking  at  the  government 
buildings  and  walking  through  the  streets  of  the  quaint, 
substantial  little  capital,  we  returned  to  Frederikstedt, 
the  Governor  and  his  staff  accompanying  us.  On  the  way 
we  stopped  at  one  or  two  of  the  larger  sugar  estates,  to  see 
their  methods  of  making  sugar  and  to  look  at  the  view  from 
them  of  the  Caribbean  Sea. 

My  father  was  much  interested  in  the  conversation  of 
these  intelligent  and  well-informed  Danes.  He  inquired 
particularly  into  the  laws  and  general  polity  which  had 
prevailed  in  the  government  of  these  islands.  Besides 
the  little  islets,  there  are  but  three  of  any  considerable 
magnitude, — St.  Thomas,  St.  John,  and  Santa  Cruz.  One 
of  these  is  the  garden  spot,  and  another  the  favourite  har- 
bour of  the  West  Indies.  Using  them  with  judgment,  and 
treating  their  inhabitants  with  paternal  kindness,  the 
Danes  have  governed  these  islands  wisely  and  well,  and 
have  led  their  people  gradually  into  the  paths  of  industry, 
morality,  and  competence.  Denmark,  alone  of  all  the 
European  Powers  having  West  Indian  possessions,  has 
solved  successfully  the  problems  presented  by  Emancipa- 
tion. 


Santa  Cruz  305 

"As  you  know,  sir,"  remarked  one  of  the  officers, 
"emancipation  in  the  other  islands  reduced  many  of  the 
whites  to  poverty,  drove  others  to  Europe,  decreased 
population,  ruined  trade,  left  towns  to  decay  and  fields 
to  run  to  waste.  But  here  careful  forethought  and  strict 
administration  have  maintained  prosperity. " 

I  observed  that  everybody  I  saw  was  at  work.  There 
were  no  loungers. 

"There  are  none.  Every  proprietor  cultivates  his  land, 
because  it  is  his  interest  to  do  so.  Every  labourer  works 
under  a  contract  regulated  by  law  for  his  advantage.  He 
has,  besides  his  wages,  a  piece  of  land  allotted  to  him,  where 
he  can  raise  vegetables  for  his  family  or  for  market. 
He  is  given  a  half  or  a  whole  day,  in  each  week,  to  cultivate 
it,  and  is  expected  to  do  so.  Every  landowner  has  to  keep 
the  road  good  which  passes  his  property,  and  to  keep  up  its 
rows  of  palm  trees,  by  replacing  any  that  die  or  are  de- 
stroyed. Every  child  has  a  schoolhouse  within  walking 
distance  and  is  required  to  attend  it,  unless  sick. 

' '  You  are  about  to  experience  the  effects  of  Emancipation 
in  your  Southern  States,  Mr.  Seward.  Would  not  some 
stringent  laws  like  these  avert  the  danger  of  their  falling 
into  disorder  or  decay?" 

"Possibly.  But  our  system  of  government,  you  will 
remember,  is  very  different  from  European  ones.  It  is 
one  of  our  doctrines  that  the  best  government  governs 
least.  We  try  to  guard  the  rights  of  person  and  property, 
but  trust  greatly  to  individual  enterprise.  Our  people  are 
impatient  of  too  close  a  supervision  of  their  business 
affairs,  and  think  they  can  manage  them  better  than  any 
government  can. " 

"It  must  be  conceded  that  they  have  done  so  thus  far. " 

It  was  just  dusk  when  we  parted  from  our  hospitable 
friends,  who  accompanied  us  to  the  wharf.  In  another  hour 
we  were  taking  our  last  look  from  the  De  Solo's  deck  at  the 


3o6  San  Domingo 

Isle  of  the  Holy  Cross, 
Gem  of  the  Carib  Sea. 

At  Sea,  Jan.  13,  1866. 

San  Domingo.  Let  us  take  an  inventory  this  morning  of 
the  tropical  curiosities  and  products  which  have  accumu- 
lated in  our  cabin  during  our  three  days  of  West  Indian 
island  visiting.  First,  there  are  two  green  parrots;  one 
with  a  yellow  head,  staid  and  taciturn,  one  with  a  red  head, 
voluble  and  conceited.  Next  we  have  two  barrels  of 
tropical  fruits,  limes,  lemons,  oranges,  cocoanuts,  bananas, 
etc.,  upon  which  we  live  luxuriously  three  times  a  day. 
Then  there  are  two  bags  of  coffee  from  San  Domingo. 
Then  there  is  a  quaintly  carved  calabash  from  Venezuela, 
some  rich  mineral  specimens,  and  some  tortoise-shells  from 
the  same  locality.  Then  there  are  two  bottles  of  the  quin- 
tessence of  perfumery,  viz.,  the  essential  oil  of  bay  leaves, 
one  drop  of  which  is  warranted  to  prepare  a  quart  bottle  of 
bay  rum.  Then  there  are  canes  of  the  lime  and  orange 
trees  that  grow  at  Santa  Cruz. 

Santa  Cruz  and  Jamaica  are  both  celebrated  for  their 
rum.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  it  is  age  which 
gives  it  its  chief  superiority.  The  cane  doubtless  grows  as 
well  in  other  islands,  but  the  rum  distilled  from  it  either  is 
not  as  well  made  or  as  long  kept  as  in  these  two.  Even 
in  these,  new  rum  is  hardly  distinguishable  from  that  of 
other  localities,  and  the  old  is  not  to  be  had  except  by 
taking  some  time  and  pains  to  find  it.  Evaporation 
gradually  diminishes  its  quantity,  and  when  it  has  attained 
the  ripe  age  of  twenty-four  years  it  has  shrunken  to 
one  quarter  of  its  original  bulk,  has  lost  all  sharp,  fiery 
taste,  and  is  smooth,  oily,  and  strong. 

This  morning  we  are  steaming  past  Porto  Rico,  and  are 
just  coming  in  sight  of  the  distant  mountains  of  San 
Domingo.  The  sea  is  almost  unruffled;  and,  as  the 


San  Domingo  3°7 

steamer  ploughs  it  up,  flocks  of  little  white  birds  seem  to 
rise  from  it,  scud  above  it  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  then 
plunge  into  it  again.  These  are  flying-fish.  They  are 
graceful  little  creatures,  some  of  whom  we  could  gladly 
welcome  on  board :  but  they  are  proof  against  the  ordinary 
seductions  of  net,  hook,  or  line. 

San  Domingo,  Jan.  14. 

Sunday  morning  finds  us  at  anchor  in  the  roadstead  off 
the  city  of  San  Domingo,  the  oldest  city  of  the  Western 
Hemisphere,  dating  back  to  the  days  of  Columbus,  of 
whom  it  was  the  creation,  the  prison,  and  the  tomb. 

Seen  from  the  steamer,  it  looks  like  an  ancient  Spanish  or 
Moorish  stronghold.  A  wall  of  masonry  runs  completely 
round  it,  flanked  by  bastions  and  a  fort  which  commands 
the  entrance  to  the  river  Ozama,  on  which  it  stands. 
Even  from  here  it  can  be  seen  that  many  of  the  buildings 
are  large  and  were  once  imposing,  but  now  dilapidated 
and  nearly  in  ruins. 

The  De  Solo  rocks  and  rolls  at  her  anchors  a  mile  and  a 
half  off  from  shore.  There  are  but  ten  feet  of  water  on  the 
bar  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  she  cannot  cross  it. 
Why  was  this  harbour  chosen  by  Columbus  for  his  colony, 
when  he  had  already  found  so  many  better  ones?  Simply 
because  the  Ozama  was  just  the  right  size  for  the  caravels 
of  his  day,  and  he  did  not  foresee  the  great  steamers 
and  clipper-ships  of  the  future.  Modern  vessels  have 
grown  too  large  for  San  Domingo,  and  so  its  trade  has 
fallen  off  and  its  buildings  gone  to  decay.  Only  schooners 
and  light-draught  ships  can  pass  into  it. 

We  sat  down  to  breakfast,  and  wondered  the  captain 
did  not  join  us.  Finally,  just  at  the  close  of  the  meal,  he 
descended  the  cabin  stairs. 

"Captain,"  said  Mr.  Seward,  "you  are  late  this  morn- 
ing." 


308  San  Domingo 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  captain,  a  smile  lurking  about 
the  corners  of  his  mouth.  ' '  I  was  less  pleasantly  employed. 
I  was  fishing  an  American  Consul  out  of  the  Caribbean 
Sea." 

' '  Out  of  the  sea !    What  happened  to  him  ? ' ' 

"Why,  he  came  off  from  town  with  the  lieutenant,  and, 
as  you  may  notice,  there  is  a  pretty  high  sea  running  this 
morning.  The  time  to  step  up  out  of  the  boat  to  the  side 
ladder  is  (as  you  are  aware,  sir)  when  the  wave  is  lifting 
the  boat  toward  it.  Unfortunately  the  Consul  hesitated 
too  long,  and  stepped  out  just  as  the  boat  was  dropping 
away  from  the  ladder,  and,  of  course,  he  stepped  into  the 
sea." 

"But  he  was  rescued?" 

"Yes,  one  of  the  crew  succeeded  in  catching  his  coat 
collar  with  a  boat-hook  and  brought  him  up.  We  even 
rescued  his  hat,  which  had  fallen  off  in  the  m$lee. " 

"Where  is  he?  Won't  you  bring  him  down  into  the 
cabin,  wrap  him  up  in  warm  blankets,  and  give  him  some- 
thing restorative?" 

"I  proposed  that,  but  he  declines,  with  thanks.  He 
says  he  is  not  exactly  in  fit  condition  to  be  presented  to  the 
Secretary  of  State.  He  will  sit  awhile  on  the  quarter- 
deck, where  this  hot  sun  will  dry  him  quicker  than  any- 
thing else  would,  and  he  will  then  pay  you  his  respects." 

Sure  enough,  when  we  went  on  deck  we  found  the  Con- 
sul sitting  there  quite  dry,  and  not  looking  at  all  like  a  man 
who,  Aphrodite-like,  had  just  emerged  from  the  ocean. 
He  was  an  intelligent  gentleman,  a  Southern  man,  loyal 
to  the  Union ;  and  gave  us  his  observations  on  the  Domini- 
can Republic  during  the  brief  time  he  had  resided  here. 

After  a  short  interview  with  the  Consul  and  his  friends, 
we  proceed  to  the  shore,  having  first  exchanged  the  compli- 
ment of  a  salute  with  the  fortress.  We  row  under  the 
guns  of  the  latter,  and  find  it  has  been  once  a  work  of  great 


San  Domingo  309 

strength ;  but  that  the  sea  dashing  against  its  base,  and  the 
winds  and  waves  of  three  hundred  years  beating  against  its 
walls,  have  shorn  it  of  much  of  its  former  grandeur.  The 
masonry  is  of  a  thickness  of  several  feet,  which  has  con- 
duced much  to  its  preservation  so  long.  Its  general 
aspect  is  rugged  and  picturesque  in  the  extreme. 

A  walk  up  from  the  wharf  through  the  streets  seems  like 
a  visit  to  another  century,  so  antiquated  does  everything 
appear,  so  different  from  anything  we  have  seen  elsewhere. 
The  streets  are  long,  narrow,  unpaved  for  the  most  part, 
though  hard  and  dry.  The  houses  on  each  side  are  of 
the  Spanish  style  of  architecture  of  three  hundred  years 
ago.  On  the  main  street,  where  most  of  them  are  used 
for  shops,  repairs  keep  them  in  tolerable  condition.  In 
many  other  quarters  they  have  become  mere  ruins, 
or  are  turned  into  hovels  for  the  poor. 

The  inhabitants  are  of  all  shades  of  complexion,  save 
that  few  are  entirely  white,  and  few  are  entirely  black. 
They  are  mulattoes,  quadroons,  mustees,  etc.,  nearly  all 
having  a  Spanish  cast  of  features.  Some  of  the  ladies, 
going  with  their  children  to  church,  are  exceedingly  well 
dressed  in  the  Spanish  fashion,  with  mantillas  or  veils,  and 
would  easily  pass  muster  in  Madrid.  There  is  some  infu- 
sion of  Indian  blood,  perhaps,  but  its  characteristics  are 
not  distinctly  marked.  Their  language  is,  almost  without 
exception,  Spanish,  with  a  peculiar  local  accent. 

We  stop  a  moment  at  the  office  of  Mr.  Cazneau,  an 
American  merchant  here,  and  then  go  to  the  National 
Palace  to  visit  President  Baez. 

The  palace  is  well  preserved,  handsome,  and  well  fur- 
nished. A  broad  flight  of  stairs,  guarded  by  coloured  sol- 
diers in  the  Dominican  uniform,  leads  to  the  reception 
room;  and  there  we  find  the  President  and  his  Cabinet,  all 
swarthy,  Spanish,  and  apparently  well-bred  gentlemen. 
President  Baez  is  himself  a  man  of  medium  size  and  pre- 


310  San  Domingo 

possessing  appearance.  He  seats  himself  with  the  Secre- 
tary of  State  of  the  United  States  on  the  sofa  at  the  top 
of  the  room,  while  the  others  occupy  chairs  arranged 
in  two  rows,  leading  up  to  it  like  an  aisle. 

The  interview  is  an  important  one  for  Dominica;  for, 
though  unofficial,  it  involves  the  question  of  the  recogni- 
tion by  the  United  States  of  her  present  government. 
President  Baez,  speaking  through  an  interpreter,  briefly 
recapitulates  the  revolutionary  events  that  have  preceded 
his  advent  to  power,  and  points  to  his  ministers,  who 
comprise  among  them  General  Cabral,  General  Pimentel, 
General  Serrano,  each  the  chief  of  a  revolutionary  party, 
now  all  united  in  one  administration,  to  give  peace 
and  permanence  to  the  country.  He  closes  by  frankly 
admitting  that  his  government  still  needs  one  thing 
to  assure  it;  but,  with  that,  will  be  strong  and  firm — that 
is,  a  recognition  by  the  Government  of  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Seward's  remarks,  in  reply,  briefly  recapitulate 
the  past  history  of  the  United  States,  in  regard  to  questions 
of  recognition  of  American  republics,  and  especially  that  of 
republican  governments  founded  by  the  race  represented 
here.  They  refer  to  the  future  relations  and  the  unity 
of  interest  existing  between  the  republics  of  this  hemi- 
sphere, and  especially  the  relations  and  the  duties  of 
the  United  States  in  regard  to  them.  Finally,  they  give 
what  is  equivalent  to  an  unofficial  but  reliable  assurance 
that  the  recognition  of  the  present  government  of  the 
Dominican  Republic  by  the  United  States  will  not  be 
long  deferred. 

He  adds:  "We  have  built  up  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
American  continent  a  republic.  We  have  laid  for  it  a 
broad  foundation.  It  has  grown  upon  our  hands  to  be  an 
imposing,  possibly  a  majestic  empire.  Like  every  other 
structure  of  large  proportions,  it  requires  outward  but- 
tresses. Those  buttresses  will  arise  in  the  development  of 


San  Domingo  311 

civilization  in  this  hemisphere.  They  will  consist  of 
republics  founded  like  our  own,  in  adjacent  countries 
and  islands,  upon  the  principles  of  the  equal  rights  of  men. 
To  us  it  matters  not  of  what  race  or  lineage  these  repub- 
lics shall  be.  They  are  necessary  for  our  security  against 
external  forces,  and  perhaps  for  the  security  of  our  internal 
peace.  We  desire  those  buttresses  to  be  multiplied  and 
strengthened,  as  fast  as  it  can  be  done,  without  the  exercise 
of  fraud  or  force  on  our  part.  You  are  quick  to  perceive 
the  use  of  the  main  edifice  in  protecting  the  buttress 
you  have  established  here;  and  thus  it  happens  the  repub- 
lics around  us  only  impart  to  us  the  strength  which  we, 
in  turn,  extend  to  them.  We  have  therefore  no  choice 
but  to  recognize  the  Republic  of  Dominica  as  soon  as 
it  shall  afford  the  necessary  guarantee  of  its  own  stability. 
We  have  only  been  waiting  at  Washington  for  the  report 
of  our  Consul  here,  giving  us  satisfactory  evidences  of  this 
stability  and  permanence. "  So  the  interview  terminates 
very  satisfactorily. 

Thence  to  the  Cathedral — a  fine  old  structure  of  massive 
masonry,  and  in  heavy  mediaeval  architecture.  It  is  in 
good  repair,  and  its  altars  and  shrines  are  profusely,  not  to 
say  gaudily,  ornamented. 

Numerous  pictures,  mostly  of  the  Saints,  adorn  it. 
Under  a  slab  in  the  central  pavement  was  pointed  out  to  us 
the  place  where  the  remains  of  Columbus  were  interred,  up 
to  the  time  of  their  removal  to  Havana  during  the  present 
century.  In  one  of  the  chapels  is  an  interesting  histor- 
ical relic,  the  wooden  cross  which  Columbus  planted  on  his 
first  landing  on  the  island.  Then  we  went  to  the  ruins  of 
the  Convent  of  Santa  Clara.  In  its  time,  it  must  have  been 
a  magnificent  structure.  The  heavy  walls,  with  arched 
cells  and  cloisters,  the  deep  wells,  the  flat  tiled  roofs, 
are  in  some  places  in  tolerable  preservation,  in  others  in 
decay  and  ruin.  The  convent  garden  is  all  weeds  and 


312  San  Domingo 

thickets.  In  various  parts  of  the  edifice  were  families 
of  poor  people,  who  had  evidently  been  glad  of  so  eligible 
an  opportunity  to  find  house  room,  rent  free,  subject 
only  to  the  trifling  inconvenience  of  having  the  windows 
and  doors  gone,  and  the  roofs  and  walls  considerably 
dilapidated.  But  in  this  climate  perhaps  these  are  not 
important  considerations. 

Difference  of  climate  brings  differences  of  taste.  In  one 
of  the  shop-windows  today  we  saw  a  pair  of  very  ordinary 
looking  American  quails,  in  a  handsome  cage,  for  sale  at 
twenty  dollars;  while  parrots  were  to  be  had  for  a  few 
shillings.  Quails  being  rare  here  are  kept  for  household 
pets,  while  parrots,  being  plenty,  sometimes  get  stewed 
for  soup. 

Looking  down  on  the  harbour  just  below  us,  we  see  a 
pelican  describing  slow  and  stately  circles,  ending  with  a 
sudden  plunge  into  the  water,  out  of  which  the  bird  emerges 
with  a  fish  in  his  mouth.  Then,  flapping  his  wings,  he 
betakes  himself  to  some  more  secluded  spot  to  devour 
his  prey  or  divide  it  among  his  family.  Nobody  seems  to 
molest  these  pelicans  while  they  are  making  their  solemn 
gyrations  just  above  the  roofs  of  the  houses  and  the  masts 
of  the  ships. 

There  is  a  picturesque  drive  outside  the  walls  of  the 
city.  Two  diminutive  Spanish  horses  and  an  antiquated 
looking  chaise  soon  take  us  there.  Passing  through  an 
ancient  gate,  with  walls  and  guard-house  of  solid  masonry, 
around  which  sentries  are  pacing  and  soldiers  off  guard 
are  lounging  and  chatting,  we  find  ourselves  on  a  level  and 
tolerably  good  road,  evidently  once  a  handsome  highway. 
It  winds,  following  the  course  of  the  coast,  though  it  is 
at  some  distance  from  the  sea.  On  both  sides  of  it  are 
plantations  and  country  seats  of  the  hidalgos  of  olden 
time.  Their  buildings  are  old,  dilapidated,  and  neglected. 
Some  are  in  ruins ;  some  partly  repaired  and  occupied  by 


San  Domingo  313 

the  landowners ;  others  have  become  mere  hovels  for  labour- 
ers. Rich,  luxuriant,  tropical  vegetation  has  grown  up  in 
tangled  thickets,  half  hiding  the  houses,  overrunning 
walls  and  fences,  choking  up  roads  and  paths. 

We  meet  no  carriages  or  wagons,  but  occasionally  men, 
women,  and  children,  mounted  on  donkeys,  whose  loads  of 
cocoanuts,  bananas,  and  sugar-cane  so  cover  them  up 
that  hardly  more  than  the  head  and  ears  of  the  animal 
are  visible. 

We  descend  to  look  at  one  of  the  villas,  and,  passing 
over  a  fallen  gate,  and  through  paths  overgrown  with  weeds, 
go  up  to  the  mansion,  once  stately,  now  dilapidated,  sur- 
rounded by  ruined  offices  and  outbuildings.  Its  broken 
windows  open  on  a  spacious  veranda,  commanding  a 
magnificent  view  of  the  ocean.  Here  we  rest,  while 
the  driver  attempts  what  seems  the  impossible  feat  of 
bringing  down  some  cocoanuts  from  a  palm  tree  in  the 
grove  nearby.  Its  forty  feet  of  straight,  smooth  trunk 
look  inaccessible  enough.  But,  with  the  skill  of  an  ex- 
pert, he  takes  a  long  rope,  makes  a  slip-knot  in  it, 
fastens  one  end  to  the  trunk  and  contrives  to  throw  the 
other  over  a  branch,  and,  mounting  this  improvised  lad- 
der with  cat-like  agility,  presently  comes  sliding  down 
with  a  dozen  fresh  cocoanuts,  full  of  sweet,  watery  fluid, 
in  such  state  as  we  never  see  them  in  the  United  States. 
The  drink  is  palatable,  but  warm,  and,  to  our  Northern 
tastes,  seems  as  if  it  would  be  vastly  improved  by  a  little 
ice. 

Returning  to  the  city,  Mr.  Cazneau,  who  is  engaged 
in  mining,  told  us  he  imported  his  labourers  from  New 
York.  On  our  expressing  surprise,  especially  as  the 
streets  seem  just  now  to  be  full  of  unemployed  idlers, 
he  said  he  found  it  impossible  to  rely  upon  them.  They 
were  unwilling  to  work  for  more  than  a  few  hours  at  a  time, 
and  not  that  unless  for  some  special  purpose.  He  said 


3  H  San  Domingo 

that  he  used  to  go  among  them  offering  two  or  three  or  four 
dollars  per  day.  Their  reply  would  be,  "No,  mas'r,  don't 
want  to  work. " 

"But  you  are  in  rags.  Don't  you  want  to  earn  some- 
thing to  buy  clothes?" 

"No,  mas'r,  don't  want  much  clothes.  Too  hot  for 
clothes." 

"But  how  can  you  live,  if  you  are  idle?  You  must 
want  to  earn  enough  to  buy  food  for  your  family?" 

"Oh,  no,  mas'r!     Plenty  banana — plenty  banana!" 

So  he  had  to  give  it  up  in  despair. 

We  visited  other  ruins  and  other  streets,  glancing  at 
the  shops,  priced  a  few  articles,  including  flamingos  and 
monkeys,  and  then  went  down  to  the  wharf.  On  the 
way  we  passed  and  visited  the  ruined  palace,  built  by 
Columbus 's  son  Diego,  who  was  at  one  time  governor. 
We  clambered  up  its  ruined  steps  and  walked  through 
the  dilapidated  chambers  and  terraces,  finding  the  same 
architectural  features  as  in  the  other  buildings  visited. 
The  only  wonder  is,  that  a  town  built  so  long  ago,  and 
devastated  by  hurricanes  and  earthquakes,  by  sieges  and 
captures,  by  the  British,  the  Haytians,  and  the  Spanish, 
and  by  the  lapse  of  so  much  time,  should  have  any  walls 
left  standing. 

As  we  entered  the  boat,  the  ruins  of  the  prison  where 
Columbus  was  confined  were  shown  us.  They  stand  on 
the  bluff  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river. 

The  Dominican  soldiers,  not  uniformed  and  not  very 
well  clad  or  equipped,  were  to  be  seen  in  considerable 
numbers  at  the  barracks  and  on  guard  duty.  A  few  at 
the  palace  were  an  exception  to  this  rule,  appearing  neat 
and  well  armed.  They  are  all  coloured  men,  mostly  of  the 
darker  hues. 

We  took  a  parting  look  at  the  city  from  the  steamer,  and 
at  the  adjacent  forest  of  truly  tropical  luxuriance,  the 


Hayti  315 

trees  of  immense  size,  and  the  underbrush,  thick,  wild,  and 
varied. 

So  we  leave  this  curious  antiquated  town  and  the 
Spanish  part  of  the  island  of  San  Domingo.  Next  we  visit 
its  western  portion,  once  French,  now  independent,  where 
the  African  race,  with  less  mixture,  holds  complete  sway. 

Bay  of  Gonaives, 
Off  Port-au-Prince,  Jan.  16. 

Hayti.  This  morning,  on  looking  out  of  the  port- 
hole, we  find  the  Southern  Cross  shining  brilliantly  on 
that  side  of  the  ship  which  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
consider  north.  The  sun,  too,  rises  today  over  our  bow 
instead  of  over  the  stern.  It  seems  we  have  changed 
our  course  during  the  night,  and,  instead  of  westward,  are 
proceeding  almost  due  east.  This  is  in  consequence  of 
the  peculiar  configuration  of  the  island. 

To  reach  Port-au-Prince  from  San  Domingo,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  make  a  complete  circuit  around  the  long  strip  of  land 
which  lies  on  the  southern  side  of  the  Bay  of  Gonaives. 

The  day  has  been  spent  in  steaming  up  the  bay.  It  is 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long  and  gradually  narrows 
as  we  go  up  toward  the  city.  High  mountains  are  visible 
on  either  side.  The  picturesque  island  of  Gonave,  and  the 
numerous  islets  and  coral  reefs,  render  the  general  appear- 
ance of  the  landscape  not  unlike  that  of  some  parts  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  and  the  Hudson.  Our  approach  to  the 
capital  brings  into  view  indications  of  its  commerce.  We 
have  passed  several  brigs  and  schooners  during  the  day, 
and  an  English  steamer  is  just  coming  behind  us.  Nu- 
merous little  coasters,  deeply  laden  with  sacks  of  coffee 
and  logwood,  are  running  into  the  harbour  before  the 
wind. 

The  harbour  itself  offers  a  fine  prospect.  Lofty  hills 
around  the  farther  extremity  rise  like  an  amphitheatre, 


316  Hayti 

and  midway  in  the  scene,  at  their  foot,  is  the  city  of  Port- 
au-Prince,  rising  from  the  water  on  a  gentle  eminence, 
crowned  with  what  seems  a  commanding  fortification.  We 
come  to  anchor  just  after  sunset,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  shore.  The  wharves  seem  to  be  tolerably 
filled  with  shipping,  and  three  ocean  steamers  are  at 
anchor  near  us.  Two  are  Haytian  men-of-war,  one  of 
which  is  the  Galatea,  lately  purchased  from  our  Govern- 
ment, and  which  is  manned  by  a  crew  of  "contrabands" 
and  coloured  men  from  New  York.  Discipline  seems 
to  be  well  preserved,  and  naval  customs  all  complied 
with  on  her  decks,  except  that  there  is  an  unusual  amount 
of  noise,  both  in  the  execution  of  orders  and  in  the  singing 
with  which  the  sailors  relieve  the  monotony  of  their 
existence. 

The  United  States  Commercial  Agent,  Mr.  Conard, 
came  on  board  to  make  us  a  visit,  and  was  soon  followed 
by  Mr.  Peck,  the  Commissioner  and  Consul-General.  As 
it  was  too  late  to  go  ashore  tonight,  we  have  sat  on  deck 
together  and  had  a  long  conversation  in  regard  to  the 
political,  commerical,  and  social  condition  of  the  Haytian 
people,  and  have  arranged  to  start  at  an  early  hour 
tomorrow  morning  to  see  the  capital  of  this  peculiar 
republic. 

Port-au-Prince,  Jan.  17. 

At  sunrise,  this  morning,  the  De  Soto  saluted  the  Hay- 
tian flag,  and  a  few  minutes  after  came  an  answering 
salute  from  the  water  battery.  We  pulled  ashore,  and 
landed  at  the  wharf  near  the  American  Consulate. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  eye  of  the  visitor  is,  that 
everybody  on  shore  is  decidedly  African,  in  complexion 
and  feature.  White  men  are  as  few  and  exceptional  here 
as  black  men  are  in  one  of  our  Northern  towns,  and,  at 
first  glance,  it  looks  oddly  enough  to  find  black  men 


Hayti  317 

not  only  the  labourers,  but  officers  in  uniform,  well-dressed 
gentlemen,  men  of  business,  and  men  of  authority.  All 
are  talking  French;  all  are  busily  employed,  with  a  brisk- 
ness and  a  polite  and  easy  air,  that  but  for  the  prevailing 
sable  hue,  would  lead  one  to  imagine  himself  on  the  quays 
of  a  city  in  France. 

Through  piles  of  logwood  and  heaps  of  coffee  sacks  we 
find  our  way  to  the  Consulate,  where  we  breakfast,  and 
then  sally  forth  to  take  a  drive  about  the  town. 

The  streets  are  bad  enough.  They  have  once  been 
paved,  and  since  neglected,  and  are  now  more  rough  and 
uneven  than  if  they  had  never  been  paved  at  all.  The 
drainage  is  bad,  and  the  sewerage  insufficient,  so  that  the 
streets  rival  some  that  are  noted  for  such  deficiences  in 
New  York  and  Washington;  but,  though  dirty,  they  are 
dry  at  present,  and  hence  tolerable. 

The  style  of  architecture  is  peculiar.  The  best  build- 
ings, on  the  principal  streets,  are  of  wooden  framework 
filled  in  with  brick  between  the  timbers.  The  poorer  class 
of  houses  are  of  wood  throughout,  and  slate  roofs  are 
almost  universal.  Almost  all  buildings  are  of  but  one  or 
two  stories  in  height.  The  earthquakes  have  determined 
the  character  of  the  architecture.  There  are  no  brick 
or  stone  buildings  of  several  stories,  as  with  us,  as  the 
earthquakes  would  infallibly  shake  them  down  on  the 
heads  of  the  occupants.  The  wooden  frame  may  not 
only  shake,  but  even  rock  to  and  fro  considerably,  without 
serious  damage.  The  safest  material  for  all  houses  in  such 
a  climate  is  wood.  Residents  told  me  they  remembered  no 
case  in  which  a  wooden  house  was  destroyed  by  earthquake, 
even  when  brick  ones  were  tottering  and  tumbling  into 
fragments.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  the  danger 
of  fire,  which  is  not  less  frequent,  and  is  even  more  destruc- 
tive. Hence,  the  compromise  of  wooden  frame  with  brick 
filling. 


318  Hayti 

A  large  part  of  the  city  is  just  recovering  from  a  calamity 
of  this  sort.  An  extensive  fire,  about  ten  months  since, 
swept  off  a  considerable  portion  of  the  business  quarter 
of  the  town — a  conflagration  similar  in  extent  to  that 
which  occurred  about  the  same  time  in  Richmond.  But 
it  is  rapidly  being  rebuilt.  Piles  of  lumber  are  strewn 
about;  workmen  are  busy;  and  edifices  in  all  stages  of 
completion  are  rapidly  progressing. 

The  sidewalks  of  Port-au-Prince  are  private,  not  public 
property.  Each  house  has  a  paved  gallery  or  veranda 
on  a  level  with  the  street,  recessed  under  its  second  story, 
and  open  at  front  and  ends.  The  owner  sits  here,  ties 
his  horse  here,  places  his  merchandise  here,  keeps  his  dogs 
and  his  parrots  here,  and  may,  if  he  chooses,  fence  it  in  and 
keep  it  entirely  for  his  family  use;  and  sometimes  does  so. 
But  the  general  custom  is  to  leave  it  open  for  the  use  of  the 
foot  passengers,  who  thus  step  from  one  house  to  another  on 
a  dry,  well  paved  walk,  sheltered  from  both  sun  and  rain. 
Politeness  and  custom  require,  however,  that  one  shall 
in  passing  touch  his  hat  to  the  ladies,  if  he  finds  them 
on  the  gallery,  when  thus  encroaching  on  their  rights. 
So  it  is  no  unusual  sight  to  see  a  gentleman  regularly 
touching  his  hat  at  every  house,  as  he  walks  along. 

Emerging  from  the  burnt  district,  we  come  upon  the 
market-place.  It  is  a  busy  scene,  filled  with  country 
people  surrounded  by  the  heaps  of  rural  productions  they 
have  brought  for  sale,  and  the  little  donkeys  that  have 
brought  them — a  less  vociferous  scene  than  we  have  met  at 
other  similar  places;  the  traffic  appearing  to  go  on  with 
less  flourish,  but  more  rapidly  and  effectively.  John, 
who  has  been  sent  ashore  to  do  our  marketing,  comes  back 
with  astonishing  tales  of  the  magnitude  of  prices  and  of 
transactions.  For  two  pairs  of  chickens  he  has  paid 
$64 — that  is,  $16  for  each  fowl!  He  has  expended  simi- 
larly for  vegetables,  and  the  whole  cost  of  our  purchases 


Hayti  319 

in  one  day's  marketing  is  $100.  It  is  a  mitigating  circum- 
stance, however,  that  this  is  in  Haytian  paper  currency, 
which  is  rather  depreciated.  He  exchanged  at  the  Con- 
sulate six  gold  dollars  for  $100  of  the  Haytian  paper,  and 
this  is  what  he  has  laid  out. 

The  principal  conveyance,  for  business  or  pleasure,  to 
be  found  in  Port-au-Prince  is  the  donkey.  There  are 
wagons  and  carts,  and  some  good  carriages  and  fine  horses, 
but  these  are  for  city  use  merely.  The  roads  up  the  hill- 
sides into  the  country  are  not  passable  for  vehicles,  though 
we  were  told  that  two  hours  of  pleasant  riding  on  horse- 
back would  bring  us  to  the  heights,  where  we  should  have 
magnificent  prospects,  and  a  temperate  instead  of  a  tropi- 
cal climate.  Up  there  the  pine  thrives,  and  apples, 
peaches,  and  other  Northern  products  are  easily  raised. 

From  the  market  we  went  to  the  cathedral,  a  large 
substantial  wooden  structure,  handsomely  decorated  and 
furnished  within.  The  pictures  are  numerous,  and  some 
of  them  very  fine.  They  are  generally  the  productions 
of  French  art,  some  old,  but  the  majority  of  them  of 
recent  date.  A  mass  for  the  dead  was  being  celebrated 
when  we  entered.  There  were  not  many  worshippers — 
few  besides  the  priests  and  relatives  of  the  deceased, 
who  was  probably  of  some  wealthy  family.  When  they 
came  out,  they  seemed,  in  dress,  manners,  and  carriage — 
in  all  respects  save  in  complexion — just  such  persons  as 
one  might  expect  to  meet  coming  out  of  a  church  in  Fifth 
Avenue. 

There  is  one  noticeable  peculiarity  in  the  style  of  dress 
seen  in  the  streets  of  Port-au-Prince.  The  proverbial 
African  taste  for  bright  colours  and  gorgeous  flowers  and 
patterns  seems  here  to  have  been  entirely  laid  aside.  In- 
stead of  brilliant  colours,  modest,  neutral  tints  and  tones 
seem  to  be  in  vogue.  In  our  drive  through  the  streets  we 
did  not  see  one  man  in  any  exaggerated  style  of  costume, 


320  Hayti 

though  many  dressed  like  quiet,  respectable  gentlemen.  We 
did  not  see  even  one  woman  with  the  bright  Madras  hand- 
kerchief around  her  head,  elsewhere  so  common.  Black, 
white,  grey,  purple,  and  the  intermediate  tints  in  delicate 
material,  either  plain,  or  in  small  checks  and  modest 
patterns,  were  almost  universal.  The  same  thing  was 
noticeable  in  the  goods  displayed  in  the  shop  windows. 
Altogether,  the  taste  displayed  in  these  points  was  in 
strong  contrast  to  many  things  to  be  seen  on  Broadway  or 
Pennsylvania  Avenue.  Whether  it  is  due  to  French 
example  and  education,  or  whether  the  African  puts 
aside  barbaric  tastes  on  coming  from  slavery  into  the 
higher  condition  of  civilized,  free  citizenship,  may  be  a 
question. 

There  is  an  exception,  however.  The  military  and 
official  uniforms  are  brilliant  in  contrasts  of  colour,  and 
replete  with  gold  lace  and  ornaments.  Yet,  perhaps,  even 
these  are  only  imitations  of  the  style  that  prevailed  in 
Europe  and  in  our  own  country  fifty  years  ago,  now 
moderated  and  toned  down. 

Around  the  environs  of  the  city,  the  hills  seemed  cov- 
ered with  rich  vegetation  to  the  very  summit.  My  com- 
panion deprecatingly  remarked  that,  at  this  season,  the 
leaves  were  much  more  off  the  trees  than  at  any  other; 
and  consequently  the  landscape  was  less  attractive  than 
usual.  I  told  him  there  was  even  now,  in  midwinter, 
foliage  more  luxuriant  than  we  have  in  summer.  The 
hillsides  are  in  forest — on  the  lower  portion  the  mahogany, 
the  satinwood,  lignum-vitag,  and  other  less  valuable  trop- 
ical trees  are  found ;  above  are  oaks  and  Northern  pines. 

While  we  were  at  breakfast,  two  aides-de-camp  of 
President  Geffrard  were  announced.  They  were  hand- 
some young  men  of  light  complexion,  and  attired  in  a 
brilliant  uniform  of  sky-blue  coat  and  crimson  pantaloons, 
with  an  abundance  of  gold  lace.  They  were  evidently 


Hayti  321 

well-bred  gentlemen,  of  French  education,  though  speaking 
English  fluently.  They  came  to  invite  us  to  the  Presi- 
dent's palace,  and  to  tender  his  carriage  to  convey  us 
there.  The  carriage  was  a  barouche,  attended  by  ser- 
vants in  green  and  gold  livery,  and  followed  by  a  guard  of 
dragoons. 

Arriving  at  the  gate  of  the  President's  palace,  we  found 
the  troops  drawn  up  in  line  to  give  the  military  salute. 
There  were  several  regiments,  all  in  gay  and  brilliant 
uniforms,  all  neat  and  soldier-like.  Some  of  their  costumes 
were  like  those  of  the  French  chasseurs  and  tirailleurs; 
others  resembled  those  of  our  regular  troops,  though  more 
elaborate  and  costly.  The  military  bands  struck  up  airs 
of  welcome,  among  them  the  Star  Spangled  Banner,  and 
we  were  ushered  through  a  veranda  to  the  drawing-room. 

Here  was  President  Geffrard,  a  fine-looking,  erect,  very 
dark  complexioned  man,  with  grey  hair,  courteous  address, 
and  pleasing  expression.  He  was  dressed  in  a  uniform 
somewhat  resembling  that  of  our  Generals,  though  more 
richly  ornamented.  He  received  the  Secretary  of  State 
with  warm  and  gracefully  expressed  compliments,  and 
conversed  in  French  very  fully  and  fluently  upon  the 
condition  of  affairs  in  Hayti  and  in  the  United  States. 

The  President  was  attended  by  several  of  his  Ministers 
and  Secretaries.  Mr.  Elie,  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  a  very  intelligent,  well-informed  gentleman,  and 
apparently  a  statesman  of  enlarged  views,  had  come  to  call 
at  the  Consulate  with  General  Roumain,  whom  we  had 
known  as  Charge  d'  Affaires  at  Washington,  and  they 
accompanied  us  to  the  President's.  Both  were  in  civilian's 
dress,  and  both  were  of  such  light  complexion  that  they 
might  pass  easily  for  white  men.  The  Ministers  of  War 
and  the  Navy,  on  the  other  hand,  were  entirely  African 
in  hue,  and  were  both  in  uniform.  In  manner  and  con- 
versation they  were  just  such  polished,  educated,  and  ex- 


322  Hayti 

perienced  public  men  as  one  would  expect  to  find  in  like 
positions  in  any  European  Court. 

Madame  Geffrard  and  her  two  daughters  now  entered 
the  room,  and  received  and  entertained  their  guests. 
They  are  ladies  of  refinement  and  education, — the  mother 
is  very  nearly  white,  the  daughters  a  shade  or  two  darker. 
All  were  dressed  in  accordance  with  the  Parisian  taste  and 
fashion,  and  all  spoke  French  only. 

The  drawing-room  was  quite  as  richly  and  tastefully 
furnished  as  the  Blue  Room  at  Washington,  though  of  less 
architectural  pretensions.  All  the  decorations  of  the 
house  were  rich  and  costly,  but  in  good  taste.  Among 
the  pictures  was  one  of  Mr.  Lincoln ;  among  the  busts  one 
of  Washington  and  another  of  John  Brown. 

After  a  kind  and  hospitable  reception  we  took  our 
departure,  receiving  the  same  military  honours  as  on 
entering. 

'  On  our  return,  we  stopped  to  look  at  the  two  Houses — 
that  of  the  Senate  and  that  of  the  Representatives. 
Neither  House  is  at  present  in  session.  The  rooms  are 
not  large,  as  the  two  bodies  themselves  are  not,  but 
resemble  the  legislative  chambers  of  one  of  our  States. 
Here  were  portraits  of  several  of  the  Presidents  of  Hayti, 
one  or  two  historical  and  allegorical  paintings  by  French 
artists,  and  another  likeness  of  John  Brown,  and  one  of 
Wilberforce. 

They  pointed  out  to  us  the  portraits  of  Presidents 
Boyer,  Petion,  Riviere,  and  others. 

"But  there  is  one  portrait  that  I  do  not  see  which  I 
should  have  expected  to  find  most  prominent  of  all!" 

"Whose  is  that?"  said  our  companion. 

"Toussaint  L'Ouverture. " 

"Toussaint  L'Ouverture!  There  is  no  portrait  of  him, 
here.  He  was  a  brave  man,  but  we  do  not  consider  him  a 
Republican." 


Hayti  323 

A  fresh  illustration  that  "A  prophet  is  not  without 
honour,  save  in  his  own  country"! 

When  we  arrived  at  the  Consulate  we  found  there  the 
foreign  diplomatic  and  consular  representatives  at  the 
Haytian  capital,  among  them  the  British,  French,  and 
Spanish.  Several  American  merchants  and  their  families 
also  called. 

Our  friends  accompanied  us  to  the  wharf,  taking  leave 
of  us  with  many  expressions  of  kindness,  and  sending  on 
board  for  us  various  choice  specimens  of  Haytian  pro- 
ductions. Arrived  on  board,  we  found  the  Galatea  just 
preparing  to  fire  a  salute  of  fifteen  guns,  in  honour  of  the 
American  Secretary. 

Hayti,  so  far  as  we  have  seen  it,  is  neither  the  great 
success  in  solving  the  African  problem  which  philanthro- 
pists would  willingly  believe  it,  nor  on  the  other  hand  is  it 
the  failure  in  that  respect  which  it  is  so  often  represented. 

Its  people  do  not  achieve  those  agricultural  results  which 
might  be  expected  on  a  soil  of  such  unsurpassed  fertility; 
and  in  manufactures  they  achieve  almost  nothing.  The 
sugar  mills  erected  by  the  French  are  fast  going  to  ruin, 
and  the  inhabitants  do  not  seem  inclined  to  erect  new 
ones,  nor  to  use  them.  So  in  many  other  branches  of  in- 
dustry for  which  the  island  seems  peculiarly  adapted. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  cannot  be  said  that  emancipation 
and  self-government  have  rendered  them  idle  or  degraded. 
Everything  about  Port-au-Prince  wears  an  air  of  activity. 
The  people  are  busy,  steady,  enterprising.  Everybody 
appears  to  have  his  work,  and  to  be  at  it.  Nobody 
appears  to  be  lounging  or  lazy.  There  is  nothing  of  that 
noisy  talking,  laughing,  and  shouting  which  characterize 
the  unemployed  negro  in  so  many  other  places;  but  the 
sound  of  the  hammer  and  the  saw,  the  noise  of  busy  work- 
men and  businesslike  men. 

It  is  true,  that  the  general  impression  made  upon  a 


324  Hayti 

stranger  is  that  of  poverty.  It  is  partly  so,  because  the 
buildings  are  low  and  cheap  and  the  streets  neglected. 
It  is  partly  so,  because  the  idea  of  black  people  anywhere 
is  habitually  associated  in  our  minds  with  the  idea  of 
poverty.  It  is  partly  so — principally  so — because  these 
people,  though  free  and  industrious,  lack  capital,  lack 
organized  labor  or  enterprise,  lack  education  and  experi- 
ence, and  lack  that  confidence  in  the  stability,  peace,  and 
permanence  of  their  own  government  which  is  essential 
to  the  prosperity  of  any  country. 

But  the  true  test  by  which  to  measure  the  Haytians  is 
not  to  compare  their  present  condition  with  that  of  their 
former  white  masters,  or  with  that  of  white  nations  older 
and  more  advantageously  situated — but  to  compare 
their  own  condition  now,  with  what  it  was  when  they  were 
slaves.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  vast  stride  in  ad- 
vance has  been  made  by  them,  when  viewed  in  that  light. 
It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  progress  will  continue, 
especially  when  aided  by  the  free  schools  they  are  now 
establishing,  and  when  strengthened  by  permanent  and 
tranquil  government,  instead  of  revolutionary  plots  and 
outbreaks — if  that  time  shall  ever  arrive. 

There  is  a  natural,  perhaps  a  necessary,  dread  of  a 
recurrence  of  the  white  domination,  which  has  inflicted 
such  calamities  on  their  country  and  their  race.  But 
among  its  effects  are  the  exclusion  of  capital,  invention, 
and  skill,  which  might  develop  resources  now  neglected. 
Captain  Cutts,  an  American  merchant,  who  has  lived 
fourteen  years  in  the  island,  is  now  endeavouring  to  make 
an  experiment  in  sugar  manufacture,  which  hitherto  has 
always  resulted  in  failure.  White  men  are  not  permitted 
to  own  land;  and  when,  heretofore,  they  have  occupied  it 
by  lease  or  mortgage,  and  engaged  in  sugar  making,  the 
neighbours  have,  by  violence,  compelled  them  to  desist, 
and  sometimes  destroyed  their  property. 


Hayti  325 

There  is  a  similar,  though  less  bitter,  prejudice  against 
mulattoes,  and  against  the  neighbouring  Republic  of 
Dominica,  which  is  supposed  to  be  altogether  too  near 
white  not  to  share  in  white  avarice,  cupidity,  or  ambition. 

As  our  vessel  was  just  getting  under  way,  a  coloured 
man,  in  a  small  boat,  rowed  by  a  boy,  approached  the 
stern;  and  the  man  climbed  up  a  rope  ladder  suspended 
there.  He  had  a  pitiful  story  to  tell.  He  was  formerly 
from  Auburn,  and  was  induced  to  emigrate  to  Hayti,  as 
the  land  of  promise  for  his  race ;  found  himself  unsuccessful 
in  his  farming  enterprise,  and  unable  to  employ  his  abili- 
ties with  profit  in  anything  else,  the  inhabitants  treating 
him  as  a  foreigner,  who  could  not  speak  their  language, 
and  looking  suspiciously  upon  him  as  an  American.  Now, 
his  family  was  sick,  and  his  funds  exhausted,  and  he 
wanted  to  go  home.  Meanwhile  the  boy  who  had  brought 
him,  becoming  alarmed  lest  his  boat  should  be  drawn 
under  the  paddle-wheels,  was  lustily  pulling  away  for  the 
shore,  and  deaf  to  all  calls  to  come  back.  The  American 
emigrant  took  this  very  philosophically,  however,  per- 
haps with  a  lurking  hope  of  a  free  passage  to  the  United 
States,  in  consequence  of  his  inability  to  go  ashore.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  another  boat  from  the  town  was  not  far 
distant,  and  on  being  hailed,  came  alongside  to  take  him 
off  to  the  land  of  his  adoption,  though  no  longer  the  land 
of  his  choice. 

Bay  of  Gonaives,  Jan.  18. 

We  have  been  steaming,  with  a  clear  sky  and  tranquil 
sea,  down  the  Bay  of  Gonaives,  again  admiring  its  pic- 
turesque mountain  scenery,  and  now  we  have  entered  the 
Windward  Passage,  and  descry  in  the  distance  the  dim 
outline  of  the  shores  of  Cuba.  We  passed  Cape  Maysi 
at  four  o'clock,  and  are  heading  for  the  channel  between 
Cuba  and  the  Bahamas. 


326  Hayti 

We  are  leaving  behind  us  an  island  whose  magnificent 
natural  advantages  are  not  surpassed  in  the  world,  yet  left 
to  imperfect  and  neglected  cultivation,  its  fields  not  half 
improved,  its  cities  belonging  to  the  past  rather  than  the 
present. 

President  Geffrard  is  wisely  seeking  to  encourage  immi- 
gration. It  has  been  imagined  that  Hayti,  with  its  fertile 
soil,  healthful  climate,  and  cheap  lands,  so  easily  accessible, 
inhabited  and  controlled  by  the  African  race,  would  be  the 
chosen  spot  for  the  regeneration  of  that  race,  and  the 
development  of  its  capacity  for  high  civilization  and  self- 
government — that  it  would  be  sought  by  Africans,  coming 
from  all  lands  where  they  have  been  oppressed  and 
degraded,  to  the  one  country  where  they  are  entitled  to  all 
rights  and  privileges,  where  all  the  avenues  to  wealth 
and  public  employment  are  open  to  them,  and  closed 
against  everyone  else. 

Yet  the  fact  undeniably  is,  that  the  "coming  African" 
does  not  come,  but  prefers  to  remain  with  the  whites,  in 
the  land  of  his  birth. 

The  two  republics,  on  the  same  island,  with  the  same 
soil,  and  similar  productions,  with  similar  advantages  for 
agriculture,  mining,  manufactures,  and  trade,  are,  never- 
theless, in  strong  contrast  with  each  other.  The  one 
speaks  French;  the  other  Spanish.  The  one  derives  its 
fashions  and  ideas  from  Paris;  the  other  from  Madrid. 
The  one  copies  the  codes  of  French  republics  and  empires ; 
the  other  models  its  laws  and  constitution  after  those  of 
the  United  States.  The  one  will  have  none  but  a  black 
executive;  the  other  prefers  a  white.  The  one  jealously 
excludes  white  men  from  office,  voting,  or  ownership  of 
real  estate;  the  other  encourages  their  immigration  and 
citizenship.  The  one  adopts  our  rule  that  whoever  has 
any  African  blood  is  a  black  man ;  the  other  takes  the  con- 
verse rule  that  whoever  has  any  European  blood  is  a 


Hayti  327 

"bianco."  In  one,  you  see  hundreds  who  appear  of 
unmixed  African  parentage;  in  the  other,  you  find  every 
shade  except  pure  black.  One  has  the  ambition  to  main- 
tain the  right  and  demonstrate  the  capability  of  the  African 
race  to  govern  themselves,  without  interference.  The 
other  aims  to  be  a  white  republic,  and  is  becoming  one. 
It  is  not  strange,  perhaps,  that  the  two  should  be  almost 
continually  in  hostilities,  especially  as  they  have  an 
unsettled  boundary  line  between  them,  and  each  has  a 
sort  of  traditional  claim  to  ownership  of  the  island. 

In  this  island  of  San  Domingo,  with  two  of  the  finest 
harbours  in  the  world,  they  use  instead  two  of  the  inferior 
ones.  At  the  Dominican  end  the  principal  port  is  the 
mouth  of  the  Ozama,  whose  bar  keeps  out  all  but  small 
vessels.  At  the  Haytian  end,  Port-au-Prince  is  at  the 
bottom  of  a  long  cul-de-sac,  safe  enough,  but  difficult  to 
fortify;  easy  to  blockade  and  impossible  to  escape  from. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Dominicans  have,  and  do  not 
use,  at  Samana,  a  safe  and  commodious  harbour  for  whole 
navies,  easy  of  defence,  advantageously  situated  in  the  line 
of  mercantile  traffic,  commanding  the  Mona  Passage — 
a  harbour  so  well  situated  that  the  French  used  it  as  their 
base  when  they  came  to  reconquer  the  island  in  1802,  and 
the  United  States  themselves  long  ago  saw  in  it  a  valuable 
point  for  naval  operations.  General  McClellan  and  Ad- 
miral Porter  have  both  been  sent  out  to  examine  it  with 
a  view  to  its  purchase,  and  at  one  time  treaty  negotiations 
for  it  through  Mr.  Cazneau  were  nearly  accomplished. 
Our  supposed  desire  for  it  was  one  of  the  reasons,  or  pre- 
texts, for  the  recent  Spanish  seizure  and  occupation  of 
San  Domingo. 

The  Haytians,  again,  have  at  St.  Nicholas  Mole  a  port 
hardly  inferior,  which  could  be  made  impregnable,  and 
which,  with  Cape  Maysi,  overlooks  another  important 
line  of  mercantile  transit. 


328  At  Havana 

What  is  there  that  this  island  will  not  produce?  Its 
dense  forests  furnish  mahogany,  logwood,  fustic,  satin- 
wood,  lignum-vitas,  pine,  oak,  and  various  other  woods 
used  in  the  arts.  Its  fields  yield,  with  easy  cultivation, 
corn,  millet,  and  every  kind  of  grain,  besides  the  trop- 
ical staples  of  sugar,  cotton,  indigo,  coffee,  cacao,  rice, 
and  tobacco.  On  its  hills  you  can  raise  the  plums,  peaches, 
pears,  melons,  and  grapes  of  the  north,  while  on  the  lower 
levels,  fruits  and  vegetables,  enough  to  feed  its  entire 
population,  seem  to  grow  almost  spontaneously — oranges, 
lemons,  limes,  pineapples,  aguacates,  sapodillas,  cheri- 
moyas,  guavas,  bananas,  plantains,  yams,  batatas,  and 
a  host  of  others. 

Animal  life  is  abundant.  Not  only  wild  game,  but 
the  cattle,  hogs,  and  waterfowl,  which  we  raise  with  such 
cost  and  care,  here  increase  and  multiply  and  roam 
wild,  without  any  care  at  all.  Fish,  turtles,  lobsters, 
crabs,  caymans,  and  alligators  abound  in  its  waters. 
Insects  swarm  in  myriads. 

Equally  rich  in  minerals,  it  has  gold,  silver,  platinum, 
quicksilver,  copper,  iron,  tin,  manganese,  sulphur,  anti- 
mony, marble,  jasper  and  various  precious  stones,  rock 
salt,  and  mineral  springs. 

Its  wealth  has  been  its  curse,  for  it  has  attracted 
adventurers  to  devastate  and  impoverish  it ;  and  yet  they 
have  but  half  succeeded,  though  it  has  suffered  nearly  four 
hundred  years  of  war,  and  hardly  had  a  dozen  of  peace. 

Havana,  Jan.  20,  1866. 

At  Havana.  The  coast  of  Cuba  this  morning  is  clear 
and  well  defined.  As  we  go  on  towards  Havana,  we  gradu- 
ally draw  nearer  to  the  shore,  so  that  we  see  the  palm 
trees,  the  cane  fields,  the  fishing  hamlets  and  boats,  and 
occasionally,  here  and  there,  an  inhabitant  standing  on  the 
beach  and  gazing  towards  our  steamer. 


At  Havana  329 

At  noon  we  are  in  sight  of  the  harbour  of  Havana,  a 
beautiful  picture,  as  it  gradually  opens  before  us  around 
the  projecting  bluff  on  which  stands  the  Morro  Castle. 
Grey,  rough,  and  picturesque,  its  stone  walls  frown  down 
upon  the  channel,  which  runs  just  below  them.  Along 
the  crest  of  the  hill,  additional  fortifications  bristle,  giving 
the  town  the  look  of  impregnability,  on  that  side,  at  least. 

We  stop  a  few  minutes  off  the  Morro  Castle  to  take  a 
pilot;  and  then  steam  slowly  up  the  harbour  to  our  place 
of  anchorage. 

The  harbour  is  a  busy  scene — ships  at  the  wharves, 
ships  at  anchor  under  flags  of  all  nations,  among  them 
several  fine  Spanish  men-of-war,  with  the  red  and  yellow 
ensign  flying,  steamers  passing  in  and  out,  and  ferryboats 
crossing  to  and  fro  among  them — the  whole  much  re- 
sembling Philadelphia,  as  the  entrance  to  the  harbour  is 
hardly  wider  than  the  Delaware.  The  town  itself  has  a 
thoroughly  Spanish  air,  and  few  of  the  edifices  are  new, 
yet  its  general  aspect,  by  contrast  with  our  recent  view 
of  the  antique  Spanish  town  of  San  Domingo,  seems  fresh, 
new,  and  cheerful.  The  large  open  windows  and  doors,  the 
verandas  and  balconies,  the  light  tints  of  buff,  green,  blue, 
and  white,  which  everywhere  prevail,  give  Havana  a  far 
more  attractive  look  from  the  sea  than  any  of  our  north- 
ern cities  have.  Near  the  wharf  we  see  an  American 
flag  welcoming  us  from  the  American  Consulate. 

We  come  to  anchor  near  the  Spanish  men-of-war,  and 
exchange  the  customary  salute  with  the  fort.  Presently 
the  American  Consul-General,  Mr.  Minor,  pulls  alongside 
and  comes  aboard,  bringing  with  him  the  acceptable 
gift  of  letters  from  home,  and  New  York  papers  of  the 
I3th,  a  fortnight  later  than  any  we  had  before. 

All  well  at  home.  So,  much  relieved  in  heart,  we  take 
a  hasty  dinner;  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  Consul-General, 
plan  our  disembarkation  and  sojourn  in  Havana. 


330  At  Havana 

Under  his  advice  we  are  soon  ashore,  and  comfortably 
installed  in  the  Hotel  de  Almy,  which  is  much  frequented 
by  loyal  Americans.  It  is  a  large,  quaint,  old-fashioned 
building,  which  was,  in  its  early  days,  a  Spanish  govern- 
ment palace.  It  is  of  heavy  masonry,  with  antique  orna- 
mentation. Stone  balconies  project  from  its  windows 
and  a  courtyard  occupies  the  centre,  into  which  the  hall 
and  dining-room  open,  by  arcades,  without  the  interven- 
tion of  either  door  or  window. 

Mrs.  Almy,  the  proprietress,  assigns  us  our  rooms;  and 
we  sally  out  to  improve  what  is  left  of  daylight  by  a  drive 
through  the  town. 

Near  the  tavern  is  the  old  church  of  San  Domingo, 
blackened  and  dilapidated  by  time  and  war,  and  now  used 
as  the  Custom  House.  Proceeding  up  the  streets,  the  first 
impression  they  make  upon  our  unaccustomed  eyes  is 
that  they  are  extremely  narrow.  The  side  walks  are 
only  wide  enough  to  accommodate  a  single  foot  passenger. 
The  carriageway  is  just  wide  enough  for  two  vehicles 
to  pass,  and  nothing  more.  In  consequence,  carriages 
are  allowed  to  proceed  only  in  one  direction.  Each 
alternate  street  is  set  apart,  either  for  going  up,  or  for  going 
down;  and  a  vehicle  desiring  to  go  to  a  spot  only  a  few 
paces  distant  through  the  street  is  frequently  obliged 
to  go  around  the  entire  block  in  order  to  reach  it.  To 
warn  drivers,  there  is  painted  on  nearly  every  corner  a 
black  hand  pointing  in  the  allowable  direction,  with  the 
word  subida  (up),  or  bajada  (down).  Consequently  there 
is  no  confusion.  The  streets  are  well  paved  with  smooth, 
square  stones,  and  are  kept  tolerably  clean.  They  are 
dry,  and,  from  their  narrowness,  are  almost  always  shady; 
so  that  one  can  comfortably  walk  anywhere,  without 
being  restricted  to  the  sidewalk. 

Spanish  architecture  is  massive  and  imposing.  The 
walls  are  thick,  the  ceilings  high.  The  windows  of  an 


At  Havana  331 

ordinary  dwelling  are  as  large  as  those  of  one  of  our 
churches;  and  the  doorway  is  like  the  massive  portal  of  one 
of  our  public  edifices.  A  single  story,  or  at  most  two, 
is  the  prevailing  custom. 

As  we  go  up  the  town,  we  pass  the  Custom  House,  the 
Palace,  the  Cathedral,  and  other  fine  edifices,  with  two 
or  three  small  but  neatly  kept  open  plazas,  ornamented 
with  plants  and  fountains,  and  sometimes  with  statuary. 
A  broad  archway  like  a  tunnel  leads  through  the  wall  which 
encircles  what  was  once  the  city  of  Havana,  but  is  now  a 
small  portion  of  it. 

Emerging  from  this,  we  find  ourselves  in  broader  streets 
and  more  open  places,  among  them  the  Plaza  de  Armas, 
near  the  Tacon  Theatre;  and  farther  on  we  come  to  the 
"Paseo, "  which  is  the  fashionable  drive.  It  is  a  long, 
straight  avenue,  admirably  paved  and  lighted,  broad 
and  attractive.  We  drive  as  far  up  as  the  gateway  of  the 
Captain-General's  country  house. 

They  are  lighting  the  lamps  as  we  return;  and  now 
Havana  is  in  its  glory.  Everybody  seems  to  have  no 
other  object  than  amusement,  out  doors  and  in,  on  this 
charming  tropical  evening.  The  houses  are  all  lighted; 
the  parlour  windows,  wide  open,  extend  down  to  the 
ground,  with  which  the  floor  is  on  a  level ;  and  the  groups 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  children,  and  servants  within, 
are  fully  exposed  to  view,  as  if  out  in  the  street.  Some 
are  chatting  and  laughing,  rocking  to  and  fro  in  the  com- 
fortable American  chairs,  of  which  every  room  has  several ; 
some  are  fanning,  some  smoking,  some  are  playing  musi- 
cal instruments,  some  dancing;  nearly  all  are  dressed  for 
receiving  or  making  visits.  An  iron  grating  is  interposed 
to  keep  off  intruders,  giving  somewhat  the  aspect  of  cages 
of  pretty  birds. 

Any  such  one  group  in  New  York  would  attract  a  crowd 
of  curious  gazers.  Here,  one  sees  such  groups  in  every 


332  At  Havana 

house;  and  no  one  seems  to  care  to  look.  Crowds  of 
well-dressed  people  saunter  up  and  down  the  streets,  the 
ladies  fanning  and  the  gentlemen  smoking,  and  the  car- 
riageway is  full  of  showy  equipages,  well-mounted  cabal- 
leros,  and  the  funny-looking  Spanish  volantes,  in  which 
the  horse  and  driver  seem  to  be  an  affair  entirely  inde- 
pendent of  the  ladies,  who  are  sitting  at  ease  in  the  distant 
two-wheeled  open  vehicle.  One  can  readily  understand, 
when  witnessing  this  scene,  how  it  is  that  Cubans  who 
visit  New  York  find  even  Fifth  Avenue  gloomy  and  sombre. 

The  shops,  though  not  large,  show  to  the  best  advantage 
and  make  more  display  than  is  practicable  in  establish- 
ments ten  times  larger.  Ours  are  deep  and  narrow,  while 
these  are  broad  and  open,  brilliantly  illuminated;  every- 
thing in  them  is  exposed  to  full  view.  Over  the  doorway  is 
a  sign  containing  the  name  which  is  the  peculiar  desig- 
nation of  the  shop — for  each  shop  here  has  a  name,  some- 
times appropriate,  sometimes  fanciful.  Thus  we  find 
"La  Flora,"  "La  Perla,"  "La  Diana,"  "La  Honrodez," 
"El  Telescopic,"  etc.,  which,  for  the  customers,  is  some- 
times more  convenient  of  remembrance  than  our  system 
of  numbers  and  names  of  firms.  Numbers  are  difficult 
to  recollect,  and  firms  are  perpetually  changing,  but  the 
names  here  may  endure  for  a  century. 

Returning  home,  we  find  various  visitors.  Our  house 
is  an  especial  American  resort.  We  meet  several  who  are 
engaged  in  business  in  Havana,  and  some  travellers  who 
have  come  by  the  last  steamer. 

Havana,  Jan.  2ist. 

This  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  Captain-General, 
with  his  secretary  and  aides-de-camp,  came  to  call  upon 
the  Secretary  of  State,  to  offer  him  many  kind  hospitali- 
ties and  to  proffer  a  country-seat  for  his  use  during 
his  stay.  General  Dulce  is  a  small,  spare  man,  with 


At  Havana  333 

pleasing  face  and  features  expressive  of  energetic  char- 
acter. He  speaks  only  Spanish,  but  Havana  is  polyglot, 
and  there  is  no  lack  of  interpreters. 

Shopping  was  the  next  enterprise,  and  various  curiosi- 
ties of  tropical  production,  use  or  wear,  were  the  pur- 
chases. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  Cathedral,  a  majestic  edi- 
fice, singularly  free  from  the  tawdry  ornamentation, 
architectural  or  ceremonial,  which  so  often  disfigures 
buildings  of  this  character.  Its  vaulted  ceilings  are 
adorned  with  frescoes,  and  its  several  chapels  with  fine 
paintings.  The  remains  of  Columbus  are  buried  here 
under  the  sacristy,  and  are  surmounted  by  a  marble  bust 
and  tablet.  The  Cathedral  will  hold  several  thousand 
worshippers. 

In  the  afternoon  we  took  a  drive  through  the  suburbs. 
The  country  residences  are  numerous,  and  are  of  the 
same  general  style  of  architecture  as  the  city  houses,  except 
for  the  addition  of  broad  paved  verandas.  Well-kept 
gardens,  luxuriant  in  tropical  plants  and  flowers,  and 
ornamented  with  vases  and  statuary,  are  attached  to 
many  of  them. 

Past  the  suburbs,  we  find  cultivated  fields,  in  various 
stages,  for  in  this  favouring  climate  one  sees  fields  just 
planted  side  by  side  with  others  ready  for  the  harvest. 
Vegetables  and  fruits  for  the  city  markets  occupy  many  of 
them.  Farther  on  we  come  upon  cane  and  tobacco  fields, 
with  a  plentiful  sprinkling  of  palms  and  cocoanut  trees, 
giving  the  landscape  much  the  same  general  air  as  that  we 
had  seen  at  Santa  Cruz. 

Everybody,  at  this  season,  is  eating  sugar.  The 
children  are  sucking  bits  of  the  cane.  The  grown  people 
are  feasting  on  its  various  forms  at  table.  The  soldiers 
are  served  with  rations  of  sugar-cane,  chopped  off  into 
suitable  length  and  served  out  by  the  commissary.  The 


334  At  Havana 

donkey  rider  carries  a  long  cane  in  his  hand  and  sucks  one 
end  while  he  whips  the  donkey  with  the  other.  The 
cattle  and  horses  fatten  on  the  refuse  of  the  sugar  house, 
and  the  dogs  lick  up  the  syrup  that  is  trickling  plentifully 
on  the  ground.  There  is  one  exception  to  the  general 
rule,  however.  The  planter's  family,  who  have  become 
too  familiar  with  the  processes  of  sugar-making,  do  not 
care  to  eat  it  until  it  comes  back,  next  year,  white  and 
refined,  from  New  York. 

Here  and  there,  among  the  labourers  in  the  cane-fields, 
we  notice  the  unmistakable  faces  of  Chinese  coolies. 
Their  short,  spare,  lithe,  active  figures  are  usually  in 
motion;  and  they  seem  not  to  have  the  fondness  for 
lounging  in  the  sun  which  the  African  has.  Some  of 
the  landowners  whom  we  have  met  say  that  they  prefer 
them,  as  being  more  industrious  and  requiring  less  watch- 
ing. They  are  brought  here  across  the  Pacific  and  the 
Isthmus.  How  far  their  emigration  is  voluntary  is,  in 
most  cases,  a  matter  of  doubt.  The  landed  proprietor 
here  makes  his  bargain  with  the  agent  of  a  company 
which  undertakes  to  deliver  so  many  Chinamen  to  him 
as  apprentices  for  a  certain  number  of  years  (usually 
eight).  They  are  to  be  fed,  clothed,  and  to  receive  so 
many  dollars  per  month ;  and  then  to  be  discharged  at  the 
close  of  their  term  of  apprenticeship.  Usually,  they 
are  willing  and  docile,  though  comprehending  but  little  of 
the  language  of  their  employers. 

Some  certainly  are  voluntary  emigrants  from  Canton 
who  know  the  nature  of  the  apprenticeship  before  them. 
But  it  often  happens  that  others,  when  they  have  picked 
up  some  knowledge  of  the  language,  tell  of  the  knavish 
pretences  or  threats  by  which  they  were  induced  to  leave 
their  homes  and  go  on  board  a  vessel  bound  they  knew  not 
whither.  Sometimes  one  of  the  poor  creatures,  in  utter 
despair,  commits  suicide.  We  were  told  of  one  planter 


At  Havana  335 

who,  one  morning,  found  seven  of  his  newly  indentured 
apprentices  hanging  on  the  trees  of  his  orchard.  There 
are  provisions  of  law  to  prevent  and  remedy  these  wrongs, 
but  it  is  difficult  to  enforce  them;  especially  when  the 
injured  party  cannot  explain  his  grievance,  or  when  the 
employer  is  a  man  who,  so  long  as  he  gets  labourers,  does 
not  trouble  himself  to  inquire  how  fairly  or  unfairly  they 
may  have  been  dealt  with. 

It  is  said,  and  there  seems  no  good  reason  to  doubt  the 
statement,  that  such  cases  of  cruelty  and  injustice  are 
rare  in  the  islands  where  labour  is  free;  and  that  they 
are  most  frequent  in  the  slaveholding  islands,  where 
popular  sensibilities  on  the  subject  of  justice  to  Asiatics 
are  naturally  somewhat  blunted  by  what  they  see  meted 
out  to  Africans. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Chinese  immigrant  comes  to 
make  money,  in  the  hope  of  some  day  returning  to  his 
own  country  to  spend  it.  But  there  are  some  who,  at  the 
end  of  their  apprenticeship,  seem  to  prefer  to  remain. 
Such  a  one,  who  has  deliberately  taken  up  his  residence 
for  life,  is  a  changed  being.  He  is  Europeanized.  He 
has  dropped  his  Chinese  tunic,  wears  the  dress  of  Euro- 
peans, and  has  lost  his  pigtail.  He  talks  Spanish  or  Eng- 
lish. He  has  been  baptized,  and  is  no  longer  a  "heathen 
Chinee."  His  walk,  manners,  and  gestures  all  seem  to 
have  been  "translated." 

An  expression  of  keen  astuteness  has  crept  into  his  face, 
instead  of  the  vacuous,  childish  smile  that  once  reigned 
there.  His  very  eyes  seem  to  have  lost  their  almond  shape ; 
and  he  smokes,  chews,  drinks,  and  swears  "like  a  Chris- 
tian." But  though  he  may  sometimes  acquire  Christian 
vices,  he  fortunately  does  not  lose  his  heathen  virtues.  It 
is  said  there  is  no  case  where  he  becomes  idle,  improvident, 
or  a  pauper.  He  is  frugal,  industrious,  thrifty,  and  if  he 
keeps  his  health,  and  lives  long  enough,  is  sure  to  end  by 


336  At  Havana 

being  rich.  Some  highly  respectable  and  well-to-do 
merchants  of  this  class  have  been  pointed  out  to  us. 

Even  so  near  as  this  to  Havana  there  is  some  unculti- 
vated land.  Cuba,  though  of  unsurpassed  fertility,  has 
never  yet  fully  developed  her  agricultural  resources. 

Our  ride  took  us  as  far  as  Marinao,  a  fishing  hamlet 
on  the  seashore,  about  ten  miles  from  the  city;  and  we 
returned  in  time  to  witness  again  the  gay  scene  presented 
in  the  Havana  streets  by  gaslight. 

After  dinner,  the  American  residents  at  Havana,  and 
with  them  many  of  their  Cuban  acquaintances,  called 
to  pay  their  respects  to  the  Secretary  of  State,  with 
many  gratifying  expressions  of  cordiality  and  friendship. 
Each  was  introduced  and  shook  hands,  leaving  his  card  in 
remembrance  of  his  visit. 

Havana,  Jan.  22d. 

Another  walk  before  breakfast  this  morning,  in  which 
we  neither  lost  our  way  nor  failed  to  expend  our  money, 
quite  encouraged  us  in  the  belief  that  we  were  becoming 
familiar  with  the  localities,  the  language,  and  the  coins 
of  Havana. 

We  are  told  there  is  a  "norther"  blowing  outside.  It 
must  be  a  very  mild  one;  for  it  seems  to  us  that  there  is 
no  more  air  than  is  at  least  desirable  on  a  warm  day.  Yet 
our  friends  here,  as  in  other  West  Indian  Islands,  speak 
of  the  night  as  chilly,  the  thermometer  having  gone  down 
to  seventy- two  degrees;  and  refer  to  overcoats,  blankets, 
etc.,  as  if  such  things  were  positive  discomforts. 

On  our  walk  we  were  twice  stopped  by  men  with  their 
hands  full  of  printed  and  numbered  sheets  of  paper,  which 
they  proposed  to  sell  to  us,  as  muy  bonitos  and  muy 
buenos.  These  were  lottery  tickets.  Everybody  prob- 
ably does  not  buy  lottery  tickets  in  Havana,  but  from 
the  talk  one  hears  of  them,  it  seems  as  if  everybody  did. 


At  Havana  337 

The  lotteries  are  under  the  authority  of  the  government, 
to  which  they  yield  a  handsome  revenue.  The  numbers 
of  the  tickets  that  draw  prizes  are  conspicuously  chalked 
up  on  a  blackboard  at  the  "  Intendencia, "  and  the  papers 
which  contain  them  are  always  sought  for  by  an  eager 
crowd.  For  five  dollars  you  get  a  very  slim  chance  of 
drawing  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  the  hope 
that  this  very  slim  chance  or  some  smaller  one  may  be 
realized  induces  many  to  invest  in  it  every  five  dollars 
they  can  get. 

After  breakfast  we  went  to  see  a  manufactory  of  cigar- 
ettes— a  marvel  of  ingenuity  and  enterprise  which  would 
do  credit  to  Yankee  invention.  Everything  that  science 
or  art  has  devised  applicable  to  such  a  purpose  seemed 
to  be  found  in  Susini's  establishment.  He  had  a  machine 
to  make  the  paper,  a  machine  to  cut  it,  machines  to  grind 
the  tobacco,  and  to  press  it,  others  to  make  the  boxes,  to 
make  the  barrels,  to  print  the  labels,  to  engrave  the 
pictures,  and  to  number  the  packages;  besides  many 
various  modern  inventions  that  incidentally  help  the  work 
— fire  annihilators,  electric  lights,  electrotypes,  copying 
apparatus,  steam  elevators,  printing-presses,  etc.  Only 
the  work  of  rolling  up  the  cigarettes  is  done  by  hand, 
and  this  is  done  by  Chinese  coolies,  who  do  it  with  great 
dexterity  and  rapidity.  We  were  told  that  they  work  so 
industriously  that  many  of  them,  after  doing  their  daily 
tasks,  work  in  the  evening  on  their  own  account,  and  make 
twenty,  thirty,  or  even  forty  dollars  a  month.  The  coolies 
are  fed  and  lodged  by  the  establishment,  and  they  fare  in 
both  respects  better  than  either  our  soldiers  or  our  sailors. 

The  superintendent  called  up  a  short,  swarthy,  intelli- 
gent-looking Chinaman,  to  show  us  an  illustration  of  the 
thrifty  economy  of  his  race.  He  has  been  eight  years  in 
Cuba,  on  the  meagre  pittance  of  eight  dollars  a  month 
for  working  ten  hours  a  day.  Yet,  by  working  extra 


338  At  Havana 

hours,  and  saving  up  and  judiciously  investing  his  wages, 
he  has  become  worth  five  thousand  dollars  and  is  going 
back  to  China  next  month  with  that  fortune — in  that 
country  an  ample  one.  He  appreciated  the  wealth  he  had 
gained,  and  shook  his  head,  smiling,  when  asked  if  he 
would  not  consent  to  stay  eight  years  more  to  get  another 
five  thousand  dollars. 

Then  another  Chinaman  was  called  up,  equally  remark- 
able, though  in  a  different  way.  He  had  so  carefully 
combed  and  nurtured  his  pigtail  that,  when  uncoiled,  it 
reached  to  his  feet,  and  touched  the  floor  as  he  walked. 
He  grinned  with  becoming  pride  at  the  compliments 
lavished  on  this  personal  ornament. 

"What  will  you  sell  it  for,  John?"  inquired  one  of  the 
bystanders.  "I  will  give  you  five  dollars." 

John  grinned,  and  shook  his  head. 

' '  Twenty  dollars  ?     A  hundred  dollars  ? ' ' 

John  still  returned  a  scornful  negative. 

"See  here,  John,  you  don't  think  your  tail  is  worth  as 
much  as  the  fortune  this  other  man  has  saved  up,  do  you  ? 
Will  you  take  five  thousand  dollars  for  it?" 

John,  gathering  up  his  highly  prized  ornament  into 
a  knot  and  carefully  readjusting  it  at  the  back  of  his  head, 
laconically  replied,  "Me  no  takee, "  and  walked  off  with  it 
out  of  the  tempter's  reach. 

Many  ingenious  devices  in  the  advertising  way  are 
resorted  to  to  give  the  cigarettes  a  reputation.  Some  are 
put  up  in  packages  which  give  the  purchaser  a  handsome 
coloured  lithographic  picture ;  others  in  packages  of  which 
one  in  twenty  will  have  a  lottery  ticket  enclosed;  others 
are  made  in  imitation  of  cigars;  others  put  up  in  mimic 
champagne  bottles,  wheels  of  fortune,  etc.  A  newspaper 
devoted  to  their  description  is  published  monthly. 

Next  we  went  to  the  palace  of  the  Captain-General  to 
return  his  visit.  The  Spanish  soldiers  on  guard  at  the 


At  Havana  339 

entrance  were  neatly  dressed  in  white,  appropriately  to 
the  climate.  The  Captain-General  received  us  hospitably, 
proffered  us  the  invariable  Havana  welcome  of  a  cigar,  and 
arranged  for  a  dinner  and  a  visit  to  the  theatre  with  him 
in  the  evening. 

Thence  to  the  Hotel  de  Angleterra,  facing  on  the  Plaza. 
Here  were  cigars,  a  lunch,  wines,  and  "dulces. "  Here 
we  found  General  Andrew  Porter,  formerly  Provost 
Marshal-General  at  Washington,  who  is  spending  the 
winter  with  his  family  in  Havana. 

Then  we  went  to  an  extensive  cigar  manufactory,  that 
of  Partagas  &  Son,  and  saw  the  process  of  preparing  the 
tobacco,  cutting  and  rolling  it  up  into  cigars.  Three 
hundred  workmen  were  busily  engaged  here,  turning 
out  cigars  with  marvellous  rapidity.  They  sit  in  long  rows 
at  each  end  of  a  long  table,  each  with  two  piles  of  tobacco 
leaves  before  him,  one  for  the  filling,  the  other  for  the 
wrappers.  One  noticeable  feature  was  a  man  sitting 
in  an  elevated  seat  at  one  side,  and  reading  in  a  loud 
voice  from  a  Spanish  novel.  This  is  to  amuse  the  work- 
men, or,  rather,  to  keep  them  from  talking  with  each 
other  and  so  losing  time  at  their  work.  Conversation 
would  distract  their  attention,  but  reading,  while  it  di- 
verts them,  does  not  interfere  with  the  mechanical  labour. 
We  were  taken  through  vast  storerooms,  in  which  bales 
of  tobacco  and  boxes  of  cigars  were  piled,  and  cigars  in 
various  packages  were  very  lavishly  and  hospitably  pre- 
sented to  us  on  leaving. 

In  the  evening  we  went  to  dinner  at  the  Captain-Gen- 
eral's Palace.  It  was  a  brilliant  assemblage  of  about 
fifty  guests,  many  of  them  officers  of  the  government,  the 
army,  or  the  navy.  The  dinner  was  like  other  state 
dinners,  with  profuse  and  elaborate  dishes  and  deco- 
rations; and  all  its  details  went  off  like  clockwork  and 
with  more  rapidity  than  is  common  in  Washington. 


340  At  Havana 

A  band  discoursed  music  in  the  anteroom  during  the 
dinner.  The  Captain-General  had  the  Secretary  of 
State  on  his  right  hand  and  Mr.  Kennedy  on  his  left. 
Most  of  the  company  were  either  officers  of  the  Cuban 
government,  representatives  of  foreign  governments,  or 
prominent  Cubans. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  dinner,  the  Captain-General 
rose  to  propose  the  health  of  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  and  that  of  the  Secretary  of  State  and  his  family, 
with  appropriate  complimentary  remarks,  which  were 
responded  to  by  Mr.  Seward.  The  Vice-Admiral  then 
rose  to  propose  the  health  of  the  other  American  guests, 
and  of  the  American  navy,  which  was  responded  to  by 
Mr.  Kennedy  (ex-Secretary  of  the  Navy)  and  Captain 
Walker. 

After  dinner,  coffee  and  cigars;  and  then  the  Captain- 
General  took  us  in  his  carriage  to  the  Tacon  Theatre. 
Military  guards  surrounded  the  carriage,  but  were  hardly 
able  to  keep  back  the  crowd  collected  both  at  the  door 
of  the  Palace  and  that  of  the  theatre,  eager  to  see.  In  the 
theatre,  we  found  the  ladies  in  the  Captain-General's  box. 
The  building  is  a  very  fine  one,  of  magnificent  proportions, 
yet  very  simple  in  design  and  in  quiet  good  taste,  without 
the  gaudy  decoration  that  is  so  common  in  theatrical 
edifices. 

The  parterre  was  occupied  solely  by  gentlemen  and 
fitted  up  with  armchairs;  the  boxes,  of  which  there  were 
three  tiers,  were  filled  with  elegantly  dressed  people, 
occasionally  visiting  and  receiving  each  other  in  their 
respective  palcos.  Above,  there  was  the  gallery,  devoted 
to  the  general  public;  and  above  that  another  for  coloured 
people.  The  whole  edifice  was  brilliantly  lighted.  The 
Ravels  were  performing  a  pantomime. 

We  returned  to  the  hotel  at  about  eleven,  accompanied 
by  the  Captain-General  and  his  staff,  who  took  leave  of 


At  Havana  341 

us,  but  not  before  saying  that  his  Artillery  Band  would  give 
us  a  serenade  before  retiring. 

Meanwhile  the  halls  and  passages  began  to  fill  up 
with  well-dressed  young  men.  They  proved  to  be  the 
students  of  the  University,  who  had  come  to  pay  their 
respects  in  a  body  to  the  Secretary  of  State.  They 
were  introduced  one  by  one,  each  leaving  his  card.  Many 
of  them  expressed  some  sentiment  of  warm  admiration, 
either  for  him  personally  or  for  the  principles  and  policy 
of  the  United  States  Government — expressions  marked 
with  deep  feeling  and  earnestness.  Those  who  could  not 
speak  English  would  often  write  them  on  their  cards. 

With  the  students  came  also  some  of  the  professors 
and  other  residents  of  the  city,  American  or  Spanish. 

The  Artillery  Band,  consisting  of  some  sixty  performers, 
was  meanwhile  drawn  up  in  a  hollow  square  in  front  of  the 
hotel,  with  their  lights  and  music  stands ;  and  we  proceeded 
to  the  balconies  to  hear  the  serenade.  It  lasted  for  an 
hour  or  more,  and  we  then  retired  for  our  last  night  in 
Cuba. 

Now  that  the  serenade  is  over,  one  of  our  Havana  friends 
tells  us  an  amusing  bit  of  gossip  about  its  history — which 
si  non  e  vero  e  ben  trovato. 

The  story  goes  that  the  students,  being  nearly  all  native 
Cubans,  are  most  of  them  ardent  republicans,  if  not 
revolutionists.  They  thought  they  saw  in  Mr.  Seward's 
visit  a  long-coveted  opportunity  for  a  republican  demon- 
stration and  speeches  such  as  the  Spanish  government 
rigorously  and  vigilantly  represses.  They  said  to  one 
another:  "The  government  cannot  refuse  us  permission  to 
show  hospitable  courtesy  toward  Mr.  Seward,  the  Secre- 
tary of  State  of  the  United  States;  and  having  once  the 
right  to  open  our  mouths  we  can  talk  of  liberty  and 
republicanism,  naturally  suggested,  as  such  topics  are, 
by  his  whole  history. "  So  they  sent  a  committee  to  the 


342  At  Havana 

Captain-General,  to  ask  the  needed  permission  to  give 
a  serenade  to  Mr.  Seward.  General  Dulce  received  and 
heard  them  very  courteously,  and  replied : 

"Certainly,  gentleman,  by  all  means.  You  have  my 
permission,  of  course.  Mr.  Seward  is  worthy  of  all  the 
attention  we  can  show  him;  and  I  am  glad  you  are  dis- 
posed to  unite  in  doing  honour  to  the  great  statesman." 

The  committee,  delighted  with  the  unexpected  success 
of  their  mission,  were  bowing  their  thanks  and  taking 
their  leave  when  the  Captain-General  called  them  back. 

"You  should  have  a  good  band,  gentlemen,  for  such 
an  occasion.  And  now  I  think  of  it,  there  is  no  band  in 
Havana  that  is  equal  to  my  Brigade  Band.  I  approve 
your  project  so  highly  that  I  will  join  in  it  myself.  I 
will  send  my  band  to  play  for  you." 

The  discomfited  committeemen  looked  at  each  other, 
but  of  course  could  not  object  to  this  generous  offer.  The 
result  was  that  the  Brigade  Band,  a  magnificent  one  of 
sixty  or  seventy  musicians,  came,  spread  itself  in  a  hollow 
square  all  over  the  street  in  front  of  the  hotel,  and  played 
away,  air  after  air,  without  intermission  until  one 
o'clock. 

The  students,  who  had  gathered  on  the  hotel  steps  in 
hope  of  an  opportunity  for  their  demonstration,  found  no 
place  nor  time  for  speaking.  They  lingered  till  towards 
midnight,  and  then,  dropping  off  one  by  one,  gave  it  up 
in  despair,  and  left  the  scene  deserted.  Mr.  Seward,  tak- 
ing mercy  on  the  tired  musicians,  sent  to  the  leader,  with 
his  thanks  and  compliments,  a  request  that  they  would 
not  fatigue  themselves  longer.  So  ended  the  meeting 
and  the  serenade. 

On  the  morning  of  the  23d,  the  head  of  the  De  So  to 
was  again  turned  towards  the  sea,  and  she  was  steaming 
slowly  out  past  Morro  Castle,  homeward  bound.  Flags 
were  waving  from  the  Consulate  and  ships,  and  a  crowd 


FREDERICK    W.    SEWARD 

As  he  looked  in  1866,  while  Assistant  Secretary  of  State 


A  Year's  Interval  343 

of  friends,  Spanish  and  American,  were  gathered  on  the 
wharf,  to  wave  hats  and  handkerchiefs  and  shout  their 
last  adieus. 

A  steamboat  chartered  by  the  students  pushed  off  and 
accompanied  the  De  Soto  down  the  harbour,  with  farewell 
salutations.  At  the  Castle  they  gave  three  parting  cheers. 
The  crew  of  the  De  Soto  responded,  as  she  passed  out  of 
the  harbour  and  was  again  on  the  ocean. 

The  homeward  voyage  was  in  pleasant  contrast  with 
our  outward  one.  Sunny  weather  and  quiet  seas  attended 
us  all  along  the  Florida  coast,  and  even  Hatteras  offered  no 
objection  to  our  passing  it.  Wind,  steam,  and  current 
all  helped  the  De  Soto  as  she  made  her  sixteen  knots  to  the 
hour,  on  even  keel. 

But  after  the  second  day,  the  air  around  was  no  longer 
tropical.  Overcoats  and  wraps  were  in  demand  on  deck, 
and  fires  were  started  in  the  cabin  stove.  The  mercury 
dropped  to  forty  degrees,  and  in  the  distance  the  coast 
looked  white.  The  midsummer  poetry  of  the  trip  was 
gone,  and  now  came  stern  winter  reality.  But  the  De 
Soto  successfully  avoided  all  gales  on  the  Chesapeake,  and 
the  floating  ice  in  the  Potomac. 

At  noon  on  the  28th  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  at  Wash- 
ington was  in  sight,  and  before  nightfall  we  were  on  land 
again,  and  driving  back  through  Pennsylvania  Avenue 
to  our  home. 

A  Year's  Interval.  A  year  has  passed  since  the  fore- 
going journal  of  our  West  Indian  cruise  was  written.  The 
country  has  entered  upon  a  new  phase  of  its  history. 
We  are  now  at  peace  with  all  other  nations,  but  at  the 
beginning  of  high  political  strife  among  ourselves,  over 
the  problem  of  "reconstruction." 

In  that  strife,  my  father  takes  no  part.  He  is  assidu- 
ously endeavouring  to  build  up  the  country's  safety, 


344   A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

commerce,  and  prosperity,  by  the  establishment  of  naval 
outposts  in  the  Caribbean  Sea  and  elsewhere. 

The  naval  officers  who  have  had  experience  give  him 
hearty  co-operation.  But  Congress  is  absorbed  in  its 
debates  and  the  public  is  inattentive.  Hence,  it  happens 
that  I  have  now  to  write  another  chronicle  of  another 
West  Indian  voyage.  This  is  devoted  to  official  work. 
So  it  is  entitled  "A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo. " 

A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo.  The  flags  that 
were  floating  over  the  north  and  south  wings  of  the  Capi- 
tol at  Washington  in  the  winter  of  i866-'67  might  have 
been  called  storm  signals,  for  they  indicated  a  tempest 
going  on  below.  Hot  debates  were  raging  in  the  Senate 
and  the  House.  There  was  a  Republican  majority  in 
Congress.  Its  members  and  President  Andrew  Johnson 
had  both  been  chosen  at  the  same  election  as  represen- 
tatives of  the  same  party;  but  they  had  drifted  widely 
apart  upon  the  "reconstruction  policy"  to  be  applied 
to  the  Southern  States.  Encouraged  by  indications  of 
popular  approval  at  the  polls  and  in  the  press,  that 
majority  now  found  itself  strong  enough  to  defy  his 
power,  and  pass  measures  over  his  veto.  A  resolution  for 
his  impeachment  was  passed,  and  a  committee  appointed 
to  take  the  preparatory  steps;  but  upon  their  report  of 
"no  sufficient  grounds, "  the  project  remained  in  abeyance. 
Various  measures  were  introduced  and  passed  for  the 
avowed  purpose  of  limiting  his  powers.  The  President, 
not  at  all  intimidated  by  this  formidable  opposition,  was 
as  tenacious  of  his  opinions  as  they  were  of  theirs.  He 
refused  to  sign  bill  after  bill,  returning  it  with  his  objec- 
tions. His  veto,  for  the  most  part,  was  temperately 
expressed,  but  doomed  to  certain  defeat.  The  Congress 
usually  disposed  of  it  summarily  by  a  two  thirds  vote, 
without  caring  to  listen  to  his  reasons. 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo   345 

The  Secretary  of  State  had  been  censured  by  many 
former  friends  for  remaining  in  "Andy  Johnson's  Cabi- 
net. "  But  he  deemed  it  wise  to  stay  at  his  post,  and  do 
what  he  could  toward  quelling  the  storm,  and  managing 
the  foreign  relations  of  the  country  to  its  best  advantage. 
As  the  questions  with  which  he  had  to  deal  were  diplo- 
matic ones,  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  country  and  not 
of  any  section  or  party,  he  was  measurably  out  of  the 
angry  debate.  His  personal  friendships,  in  both  the 
Administration  and  the  Opposition,  remained  unchanged. 

One  morning  there  was  a  buzz  of  excitement  in  the 
reporters'  gallery  and  on  the  floor  of  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, occasioned  by  the  sudden  appearance  of 
Secretary  Seward,  who  calmly  walked  down  the  main 
aisle  to  the  seat  of  Thaddeus  Stevens,  greeted  him, 
and  sat  down  for  a  chat.  As  Stevens  was  the  especial 
leader  of  the  opponents  of  the  President,  the  evident 
cordiality  between  him  and  Seward  was  an  enigma 
to  both  sides  of  the  House.  It  grew  more  puzzling 
when  Stevens  went  to  dine  and  spend  the  evening  with 
Seward.  A  day  or  two  afterward  he  rose  to  propose 
an  extra  appropriation  "for  special  service,"  to  be 
expended  under  the  direction  of  the  Secretary  of  State. 
So  strong  and  so  implicitly  trusted  by  his  followers 
was  Stevens  that  he  had  little  difficulty  in  inducing  them 
to  vote  for  it,  "though  much  they  wondered  why." 
The  only  information  he  vouchsafed  to  them  was  that 
it  was  for  a  secret  diplomatic  mission,  of  which  they 
would  be  informed  as  soon  as  compatible  with  the  public 
interests. 

Many  years  before  Seward  and  Stevens  had  sat  together 
as  delegates  in  a  National  Convention.  Though  they  had 
rarely  met  since  that  time,  the  whirl  of  politics  had  not 
estranged  them.  When  Seward  over  his  dinner  table 
now  unfolded  his  project,  Stevens,  putting  aside  all 


346   A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

partisan  feeling,  heartily  agreed  to  co-operate  in  a  meas- 
ure "with  no  politics  in  it, "  and  manifestly  for  the  public 
good.  The  project  was  to  acquire  a  harbour  somewhere 
in  the  West  Indies,  where  we  had  none.  The  need  of  one, 
for  a  naval  and  coaling  station,  had  been  sharply  demon- 
strated by  the  events  of  the  Civil  War. 

Seward  had  already  opened  negotiations  for  the  har- 
bour and  island  of  St.  Thomas.  But  it  was  yet  uncertain 
whether  Denmark  would  be  willing  to  part  with  that 
possession,  and  whether  the  Senate  would  sanction  a 
treaty  for  it.  Meanwhile  intimations  had  been  received 
from  San  Domingo  that  an  equally  desirable  harbour 
might  be  obtained  by  leasing  or  purchasing  the  bay  of 
Samana.  Cash  payment  would  be  welcome  to  the  island 
republic,  but  if  that  was  inconvenient,  part  payment 
might  be  made  in  arms,  ships,  and  munitions  of  war, 
of  which  we  then  had  a  great  surplus,  after  the  close  of 
our  Civil  War,  that  would  otherwise  be  sold  at  auction. 

The  next  question  was,  who  to  send  to  make  the  treaty? 
The  Dominican  Republic  had  no  minister  at  Washington, 
and  we  had  none  at  San  Domingo.  Two  officials  already 
in  the  public  service  might  be  sent  off  in  a  naval  vessel 
for  a  winter  cruise  without  exciting  as  much  attention 
and  curiosity  as  would  inevitably  attend  the  creation  of 
a  new  diplomatic  post  and  the  appointment  of  a  minister. 
Accordingly  I,  being  then  Assistant  Secretary  of  State, 
was  duly  commissioned  as  a  plenipotentiary,  to  make 
a  treaty,  if  one  should  be  found  desirable.  My  colleague 
was  the  very  man  for  such  a  mission,  David  D.  Porter,  who 
was  experienced  in  all  naval  matters,  having  served  in  all 
kinds  of  vessels,  sailed  in  all  seas,  won  fame  and  promotion 
in  all  wars,  and  was  now  Vice-Admiral  of  the  navy.  His 
keen  observation  and  sound  judgment  would  be  invaluable 
in  deciding  upon  all  points  of  site,  depth  of  water,  facility 
of  access,  and  capabilities  for  defence.  The  Navy  Depart- 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo    347 

ment  had  small  vessels  in  plenty.  Admiral  Porter  selected 
the  Gettysburg,  a  converted  blockade  runner,  low,  sharp, 
and  swift,  and  she  was  duly  equipped,  manned,  and 
provisioned  for  the  voyage.  Accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Seward  and  my  secretary,  I  went  over  to  the  Annapolis 
Naval  Academy,  where  the  Admiral  had  his  quarters. 
We  sent  our  luggage  on  board,  and  on  a  bright  moonlight 
evening  started  on  our  voyage. 

At  the  very  outset  ill  luck  befell  us.  Through  some 
variation  of  the  tide,  or  some  carelessness  of  the  pilot, 
the  Gettysburg  ran  aground  before  she  was  fairly  out  into 
Chesapeake  Bay.  Worst  of  all,  she  was  so  firmly  stuck  on 
an  oyster  bed  that  she  could  not  be  gotten  off.  "She  will 
float  at  high  tide, "  we  said.  But  she  did  not,  and  when 
we  returned  to  Annapolis,  three  or  four  tugs  were  vainly 
puffing  around  her  and  trying  to  move  her. 

The  Admiral  telegraphed  for  another  ship.  The  Navy 
Department  replied  that  he  might  "take  the  Don. "  The 
Don  was  smaller  than  the  Gettysburg,  but  was  believed 
to  be  staunch  and  seaworthy.  She  was  fitted  with  twin 
screw  propellers,  and  had  a  great  loo-pound  Parrott  gun 
mounted  amidships  on  her  deck.  We  transferred  our 
provisions  and  belongings  to  the  Don,  where  we  were 
welcomed  by  Captain  Chandler.  Then  we  set  off 
again. 

All  went  well  down  the  bay  and  out  through  the  Capes, 
and  until  a  day  later.  Then  a  south-east  gale  caught  us 
off  Cape  Hatteras.  They  called  it  a  gale,  but  it  seemed  of 
the  dimensions  of  a  hurricane.  At  any  rate,  it  was  too 
much  for  the  Don.  She  tried  going  through  it,  and 
running  before  it,  and  "lying  to, "  and  neither  suited.  At 
midnight  she  was  labouring  in  a  heavy  sea,  with  broken 
rudder,  damaged  boats  and  rigging,  and  miscellaneous 
wreckage  on  her  deck.  Finally  the  thing  happened  which 
Victor  Hugo  so  vividly  describes  in  his  Ninety-Three.  The 


348    A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

great  gun  broke  loose,  and,  rolling  about  the  deck  with 
every  movement  of  the  vessel,  seemed  disposed  to  deal 
death  and  destruction  to  all  on  board.  Sailors  jumped 
for  their  lives  to  get  out  of  the  monster's  way.  It  rammed 
the  masts,  smashed  the  long  boat  and  deckhouse,  and  fi- 
nally stove  a  hole  in  the  bulwarks  and  went  overboard. 
That  was  a  great  relief.  But  more  disaster  was  to  come. 
As  the  vessel  fell  into  the  trough  of  the  sea,  the  foremast 
snapped  short  off  and  fell  on  the  deck.  Captain  Chandler's 
men  sprang  with  axes  to  clear  away  the  wreckage,  but  had 
difficulty  in  keeping  their  feet.  In  the  cabin,  trunks,  tables 
chairs,  stove,  crockery,  and  lamps  were  thrown  from  side 
to  side  with  appalling  rapidity,  and  the  only  safety  was  in 
a  berth.  An  officer  came  down  to  report  to  the  Admiral 
about  the  useless  rudder,  the  boats  swept  away,  and  the 
men  with  broken  arms  and  legs.  He  added  in  a  lower 
tone,  "We  only  keep  her  head  to  the  sea  by  using  the  twin 
engines.  The  engineer  works  them  alternately  as  the 
officer  on  deck  calls  down  to  him.  If  one  of  them  gives 
out,  she  cannot  live  till  morning."  "Well,"  cheerfully 
responded  the  Admiral,  "perhaps  they  won't  give  out. 
Anyhow,  we'll  do  the  best  we  can." 

They  did  not  give  out;  and  toward  morning  the  gale 
began  to  lessen  and  the  sea  to  subside.  The  Don  was 
headed  northward  toward  Hampton  Roads.  On  arriving 
there  she  presented  a  sorry  appearance;  dismasted,  with- 
out boats  or  gun,  with  bulwarks  knocked  to  pieces, — but 
fortunately  not  leaking.  As  we  sat  at  our  improvised 
breakfast  on  a  locker,  the  Admiral  said  that  during  the 
night,  while  lying  on  the  cabin  floor  with  his  clothes  on, 
he  heard  a  knocking  and  swishing  about  below,  and 
thought  he  felt  the  floor  move.  He  said  to  himself, 
"Now  she  has  sprung  a  leak."  Then  he  was  relieved 
to  see  a  trapdoor  cautiously  lifted  and  the  heads  of  the 
black  cook  and  another  servant  peering  out.  Having 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo   349 

been  asleep  in  the  hold,  they  had  been  roused  by  the 
racket  and  were  coming  up  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

"What  did  you  think,  Mrs.  Seward,  last  night  when  you 
heard  the  ship  was  going  to  be  wrecked?" 

"I  thought  perhaps  we  would  get  ashore  in  boats,"  she 
answered. 

"Ah, "  replied  he,  "the  boats  were  all  washed  away  long 
before  that." 

"Well,  Admiral,"  said  I,  "what  did  you  expect?" 

"Oh,  I  thought  I  should  get  ashore  somehow,  but  I  was 
not  at  all  sure  any  of  you  would.  Well,"  he  added,  "I 
don't  believe  any  of  us  expected  to  be  sitting  here  and 
laughing  and  chatting  over  a  breakfast  this  morning. " 

Landing  at  Fortress  Monroe,  the  Admiral  reported 
our  experiences  to  the  Navy  Department,  and  asked  for 
another  vessel.  He  received  the  laconic  reply  that  we 
"seemed  to  be  using  up  ships  pretty  fast,"  but  that 
we  might  again  take  the  Gettysburg,  which  by  this  time 
had  gotten  off  the  oyster  bed  without  serious  damage. 

The  next  day  she  arrived  at  Hampton  Roads.  We 
transferred  ourselves  to  her,  and  were  welcomed  on  board 
again  by  Captain  Rowland  and  his  officers.  We  started 
for  the  third  time  on  our  voyage,  and  this  time  all  went 
smoothly.  We  passed  out  through  the  Capes,  traversed 
the  Gulf  Stream,  found  fair  weather  and  favouring  winds 
between  Hatteras  and  the  "still  vexed  Bermoothes. " 
A  day  or  two  later  we  entered  the  tropics,  and  enjoyed 
sea  travel  in  its  most  comfortable  form,  with  blue  skies, 
bright  sun,  gentle  and  steady  trade  winds,  ship  on  even 
keel,  everybody  on  deck,  and  everybody  donning  summer 
clothes  in  place  of  winter  wraps.  We  read  and  conversed 
and  watched  the  flying-fish  skipping  from  wave  to  wave. 
We  found  the  Admiral  the  most  genial  and  entertaining  of 
shipmates,  and  had  occasionally  a  song  from  some  of  the 
younger  officers,  or  a  "yarn"  from  one  of  the  older  ones. 


35°    A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

We  scanned  the  charts  to  see  if  we  were  on  the  track  of 
Columbus,  but  did  not  discover  San  Salvador  as  he  did,  as 
our  course  was  too  far  east  of  it.  We  passed  the  great  bay 
and  peninsula  of  Samana,  the  object  of  our  mission,  but 
deferred  closer  examination  of  them  until  our  business 
should  be  transacted.  In  the  dusk  of  the  evening  we  were 
steaming  through  the  Mona  Passage,  and  early  next 
morning  were  entering  the  Ozama  River,  to  cast  anchor 
under  the  frowning  walls  of  San  Domingo.  The  Ozama 
made  a  harbour  large  enough  for  the  caravels  of  Columbus, 
and  also  for  the  Gettysburg;  but  the  greater  vessels  of 
modern  times  have  to  lie  outside  in  the  open  roadstead. 

Standing  on  a  lofty  plateau,  high  above  the  river,  the 
old  city  had  a  mediaeval  aspect.  Stone  towers  and  an 
encircling  wall,  with  bastions,  gave  it  the  air  of  a  fortified 
Spanish  stronghold,  as  in  old  days  it  was.  But  the 
weather-stained  and  crumbling  walls,  and  here  and  there 
heaps  of  ruins,  showed  the  ravages  of  time.  We  exchanged 
salutes  with  the  fort,  received  official  visits  from  the  health 
and  customs  officers  and  the  American  Consul,  Mr. 
Somers  Smith,  and  then  disembarked  and  climbed  the 
steep,  narrow  streets.  We  took  quarters  in  the  hotel,  and, 
through  the  Consul,  presented  our  credentials  to  Sefior 
Don  Jose  Garcia,  the  Secretary  of  State.  He  was  not 
unprepared  for  our  visit,  and  speedily  arranged  for  our 
presentation  to  General  Cabral,  the  President  of  the 
Dominican  Republic. 

The  President,  a  tall,  swarthy,  fine-looking  gentleman,  in 
civilian  attire,  received  us  courteously,  and  introduced 
us  to  the  members  of  his  Cabinet  and  the  principal  civil 
and  military  officers.  Then  we  opened  the  subject  of  our 
mission.  The  Minister  of  Finance,  Don  Pablo  Pujol, 
was  appointed  to  act  as  plenipotentiary  on  behalf  of  San 
Domingo  in  the  negotiations  with  us.  They  occupied 
some  days,  but  it  is  needless  to  detail  them  here.  As  to 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo    351 

the  bay  of  Samana  itself,  we  had  already  been  well  informed 
by  the  reports  of  the  United  States  military  and  naval 
officers. 

In  the  evening  we  drove  out  through  the  streets  of  the 
old  town  and  the  adjoining  country  roads.  The  Cathedral 
and  the  National  Palace  were  massive  and  well  preserved 
edifices.  All  the  buildings  were  of  the  Spanish  type  of 
architecture,  but  few  were  new.  Those  occupied  as 
residences  or  shops  were  in  fair  condition.  Of  the  others, 
some  were  roofless,  and  some  almost  in  ruins.  But  this 
did  not  prevent  their  being  occupied  by  the  poorer  class 
of  tenants.  In  that  genial  climate,  shelter  and  clothing 
can  hardly  be  considered  as  necessaries,  food  is  abundant, 
labour  not  urgent,  and  life  is  easy,  for  those  who  are  con- 
tent with  little. 

Out  in  the  country  were  broad  driveways  constructed 
centuries  ago,  with  stately  villas  in  various  stages  of 
dilapidation,  and  surrounded  by  a  tangled  wilderness  of 
tropical  vegetation.  We  strolled  through  some  of  the 
deserted  mansions  and  gardens,  and  tasted  the  fruits  that 
hung  abundantly  on  every  side,  oranges,  cocoanuts,  ban- 
anas, sapodillas,  guayavas,  and  pomegranates,  growing 
without  care  or  cultivation.  Here  and  there  some  wealthy 
citizen  or  foreigner  had  purchased  one  of  these  old  villas 
and  fitted  it  up  for  residence — its  neatly  trimmed  lawns 
and  hedges  and  newly  painted  buildings  contrasting  oddly 
with  the  general  desolation  around.  Far  in  the  distance 
were  the  mountain  summits  and  the  various  plateaus, 
where  every  kind  of  climate  and  vegetation  may  be  found 
— altitude  taking  the  place  of  latitude — so  that  one  may 
pass  in  a  day  from  the  torrid  to  the  temperate  and  almost 
to  the  frigid  zone,  without  leaving  the  island. 

Nowhere  is  the  memory  of  Columbus  more  warmly 
cherished  than  in  San  Domingo.  It  was  his  favourite 
island,  on  which  he  bestowed  the  loving  appellation  of 


352    A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

"Hispaniola, "  or  "Little  Spain" — now  fallen  into  dis- 
use. They  pointed  out  to  us  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of 
his  son,  Diego  Columbus,  surrounded  by  deserted  grounds. 
Fragments  of  the  flag  he  planted  on  taking  possession  of 
the  island  are  still  preserved.  The  Cathedral  was  begun 
under  his  auspices,  and  the  lordly  title  of  ' '  Primate  of  the 
Indies"  was  conferred  upon  the  archbishop.  Across 
the  Ozama  River  is  shown  the  overgrown  ruin  where  once 
the  great  discoverer  was  imprisoned ;  and  in  the  Cathedral 
is  the  slab  that  covers  the  vault  where  his  remains  were 
interred,  until  they  were  taken  up  and  carried  to  Havana. 

One  morning  at  breakfast  we  were  informed  that  there 
were  no  eggs,  no  milk,  and  no  fresh  fruits.  On  inquiring 
why,  we  were  told  that  the  city  gates  were  closed  against 
all  comers,  as  it  was  reported  that  there  was  a  "revolution" 
going  on  outside.  Never  having  met  a  Spanish-American 
revolution,  we  went  out  to  see  what  it  looked  like.  We 
found  the  gates  closed  and  guarded  by  squads  of  soldiers, 
sentinels  patrolling  the  walls,  all  traffic  stopped,  and 
groups  of  excited  citizens  talking  in  every  street.  Then 
we  went  up  on  the  flat  roof  of  the  hotel  and  looked  off 
upon  the  surrounding  country.  All  appeared  peaceful 
enough,  except  that  there  was  a  straggling  line  of  men,  with 
guns  and  without  uniforms,  walking  briskly  up  one  hill  and 
down  another,  away  from  the  city.  We  counted  eighteen, 
but  there  may  have  been  more  hidden  by  the  dense 
foliage.  These,  we  were  told,  were  the  government 
forces  going  out  in  pursuit  of  the  "revolutionists."  No 
firing  was  heard,  and  nothing  further  seen.  At  nightfall 
we  went  out  for  our  evening  drive.  The  streets  had  re- 
sumed their  usual  aspect,  the  gates  were  open  and  un- 
guarded. The  army  had  returned  and  the  revolution 
was  over.  What  it  was  all  about  we  never  heard. 

Meanwhile  our  negotiations  were  proceeding  satis- 
factorily. The  Dominican  Government  furnished  all  the 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo    353 

information  in  its  power,  and  its  terms  for  letting  us  have 
the  use  of  the  Bay  of  Samana  were  not  unreasonable.  But 
now  an  obstacle  presented  itself,  threatening  long  delay. 
On  careful  examination  it  had  become  evident  the  bay, 
which  was  always  considered  defensible  in  the  days  of  short- 
range  artillery,  would  now  be  within  range  of  modern 
siege  guns,  if  planted  on  the  neighbouring  heights.  There- 
fore we  should  need  much  more  than  we  had  come  prepared 
to  ask  for.  We  should  need  to  own  and  fortify  those 
heights.  But  the  Dominican  Constitution  forbade  the 
alienation  of  any  territory  of  the  Republic,  and  no  amend- 
ment or  change  could  be  made  without  the  consent  of  the 
Senate.  President  Cabral  invited  us  to  meet  with  his 
Cabinet  and  confer  over  this  point.  The  Senate  was  not 
in  session,  but  would  be  in  a  few  weeks;  and  they  were 
confident  that  its  consent  could  then  be  obtained  to  the 
cession.  Meanwhile  they  would  give  us  a  lease  of  the 
bay  and  its  islands  for  a  stipulated  sum.  It  was  clear  to 
Admiral  Porter  that  we  did  not  want  the  bay  if  we  could 
not  have  the  heights  commanding  it.  It  was  equally 
clear  to  me  that  neither  the  Administration  nor  Congress 
would  accept  the  doubtful  tenure  of  a  lease,  even  tempor- 
arily. We  must  have  the  "fee  simple"  or  nothing.  Nor 
could  we  wait  for  the  convening  of  the  Senate.  So  we 
decided  to  return  to  Washington  and  report  progress,  the 
Dominicans  assuring  us  that  Don  Pablo  would  soon  follow 
us  there,  with  the  Senate's  consent  and  full  powers  to  con- 
clude the  treaty.  So  we  took  our  leave,  with  cordial 
expressions  of  regard  and  friendship  on  both  sides.  On 
the  following  morning  we  went  on  board  the  Gettysburg, 
weighed  anchor,  and  started  for  the  north. 

On  our  return  voyage  we  touched  at  Port  Royal,  Ja- 
maica, and  were  hospitably  received  by  the  British  naval 
and  military  authorities  there.  Commodore  McClintock, 
of  Arctic  exploration  fame,  was  then  in  command  of  the 

2? 


354    A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo 

naval  station,  and  General  O'Connor  was  exercising  the 
functions  of  Governor.  Then  we  were  off  again  through 
the  Windward  Passage  and  the  Old  Bahama  Channel. 
As  our  coal  supply  was  running  short,  we  put  into  Nassau 
to  replenish.  There  was  some  doubt  whether  the  Gettys- 
burg could  get  over  the  bar  and  through  the  narrow  en- 
trance to  the  harbour.  Captain  Rowland  signalled  for  a 
pilot,  and  a  black  one  came  on  board.  When  asked  as  to 
the  depth  of  water,  he  chuckled  and  said:  "Oh,  that's  all 
right.  I  know  this  ship.  She's  the  old  Margaret  and 
Jessie.  I've  taken  her  over  the  bar  many  a  time  when  she 
was  a  blockade  runner. " 

A  day  or  two  were  spent  at  the  Victoria  Hotel,  where  we 
met  some  officers  of  the  United  States  Army  and  Navy, 
the  American  Consul,  Thomas  Kirkpatrick,  and  many 
American  invalids  who  had  come  to  seek  health  in  a 
warmer  clime.  Then,  the  Gettysburg  having  been  duly 
coaled  and  provisioned,  we  started  for  home.  Bright 
skies  and  balmy  temperature  greeted  us  as  we  cruised 
through  the  Bahamas,  and  along  the  shores  of  Florida, 
Georgia,  and  the  Carolinas. 

It  had  been  remarked  by  our  officers  that  the  Gettys- 
burg was  not  as  speedy  as  a  blockade  runner  might  have 
been  expected  to  be.  On  our  down  voyage  we  had  been 
burning  anthracite  coal.  At  Nassau  we  of  course  had 
taken  in  the  soft  British  coal,  for  which  the  engines  and 
furnaces  of  the  Margaret  and  Jessie  had  been  constructed. 
Feeling  the  change,  like  a  horse  after  a  fresh  "feed  of  oats, " 
she  started  off  with  an  accelerated  speed  of  two  or  three 
more  knots  to  the  hour. 

"Off  yonder,"  said  the  Admiral  one  morning,  "lies 
Hatteras, "  pointing  westward  over  the  quiet  sea. 

I  inquired  what  Cape  Hatteras  looked  like  when  seen 
near  at  hand — whether  it  was  a  bluff,  or  a  sandspit,  or 
what? 


A  Diplomatic  Visit  to  San  Domingo    355 

The  Admiral  said  that  often  as  he  had  passed  it  in  his 
voyages  he  could  not  recall  its  appearance.  The  captain 
and  other  officers  proved  to  be  also  unacquainted  with  it, 
their  service  having  been  chiefly  in  the  Pacific. 

"Ask  the  quartermaster  there  at  the  wheel.  Helll 
know." 

"Thomson,  what  does  Hatteras  look  like?  Sandy 
beach,  steep  bluff,  or  how?" 

The  grizzled  and  weatherbeaten  old  sailor  raised  his 
hand  to  his  cap  in  respectful  salute.  "Don't  know,  sir. 
Always  give  it  a  wide  berth. " 

Up  the  Carolina  and  Virginia  coasts,  through  the  Capes 
and  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  up  the  Potomac,  we  finished 
our  homeward  journey. 

Arrived  at  Washington,  we  were  called  to  President 
Johnson's  Cabinet  council,  to  report  what  we  had  learned 
at  President  Cabral's.  We  "reported  progress." 

Some  months  later,  according  to  promise,  Sefior  Pujol 
arrived,  with  full  power  to  conclude  the  treaty,  and 
with  the  Dominican  Senate's  consent  to  the  cession. 
Within  a  week  or  two  his  negotiations  with  the  Secretary 
of  State  resulted  in  a  treaty,  which  was  duly  signed,  sealed, 
and  sent  by  President  Johnson  to  the  United  States  Senate 
for  approval. 

But  the  Senate  was  in  no  mood  to. approve  measures 
submitted  to  it  by  President  Johnson.  Nor  was  it  eager 
to  extend  the  national  domain  southwards.  The  treaty, 
if  even  read,  was  not  debated  nor  seriously  considered. 
It  was  shelved  and  disregarded. 

When,  a  year  or  two  later,  President  Grant  came  into 
office,  he  became  satisfied  that  the  acquisition  of  a  West 
Indian  harbour  would  be  an  advantage  to  the  United 
States.  He  reopened  the  question,  and  found  the  govern- 
ment of  San  Domingo  ready  not  only  to  cede  a  harbour, 
but  willing  to  have  their  whole  island  republic  annexed  to 


356  The  Story  of  Alaska 

the  United  States.  But  the  Senate  again  would  not 
consent,  and  the  House  and  newspaper  press  rang  with 
denunciations  of  what  was  called  "jobbery,"  "oppression 
of  weak  republics,"  and  so  forth. 

4 'Nemo  omnibus  horis  sapit," 

saith  the  Latin  sage.  Certainly  the  American  Congress 
was  not  at  that  hour  wise  enough  to  accept  island  and 
naval  stations  as  a  gift,  though  in  later  years  it  was  ready 
to  risk  thousand  of  lives  and  expend  millions  of  dollars 
in  fighting  for  them. 

More  than  forty  years  have  elapsed,  and  we  now  have 
West  Indian  harbours  and  naval  stations  as  a  fruit  of  our 
war  with  Spain  in  behalf  of  Cuba.  It  is  perhaps  useless  to 
speculate  on  "what  might  have  been."  But  it  is  an 
interesting  question  whether,  if  we  had  accepted  San 
Domingo's  offers,  we  should  ever  have  needed  to  go  to 
war  with  Spain  at  all.  With  that  island  commanding  the 
whole  Antilles,  and  with  naval  stations  outflanking  those 
of  Cuba,  we  would  have  been  able  to  suggest  to  Spain  that 
she  might  gracefully  submit  to  the  inevitable  and  retire 
from  Cuba,  instead  of  engaging  in  a  hopeless  contest  to 
keep  it.  As  it  was,  she  felt  that  she  was  bound  in  honour 
to  defend  it  against  an  enemy  whose  naval  advantages 
were  apparently  not  greater  than  her  own.  Our  experi- 
ences with  San  Domingo  furnish  a  fresh  illustration  of  the 
old  historic  truth,  that  nations  often  solve  their  problems 
in  the  hardest  way,  because  they  have  blindly  refused  to 
adopt  any  easier  one. 

1740  to  1867. 

The  Story  of  Alaska.  Peter  the  Great  naturally  desired 
to  know  the  extent  of  the  gigantic  empire  of  which  he 
found  himself  the  head.  On  the  European  side  its  bound- 


The  Story  of  Alaska  357 

aries  were  tolerably  well -defined.  But  on  the  Asiatic  side, 
they  were  vague  and  uncertain.  Explorations  and  expe- 
ditions had  traversed  the  vast  wild  regions  of  Siberia,  and 
had  reached  Kamchatka,  which  seemed  to  be  the  end. 

The  Kamchatkans  looked  off  over  a  broad  sea  to  their 
east.  But  they  had  traditions  and  rumours  of  "a  great 
land"  beyond  that  sea,  inhabited  by  people  much  like 
themselves.  There,  it  was  said,  the  shores  were  greener, 
the  trees  taller,  the  nuts  bigger,  the  baidarkas  larger,  and 
the  fur- bearing  animals  more  plentiful,  the  mountains 
higher,  and  the  climate  milder,  the  islands  everywhere, 
and  the  fish  innumerable. 

To  find  this  region,  if  it  existed,  and  to  ascertain  whether 
the  continents  of  Asia  and  America  were  joined  by  land 
or  separated  by  water,  he  ordered  two  expeditions  to  be 
fitted  out.  Before  they  were  ready  to  start,  he  died. 

His  widow,  the  Empress  Catherine,  and  her  daughter 
Elizabeth  took  up  the  work,  and  carried  out  his  wishes. 

Both  problems  were  solved  by  the  expeditions  under 
command  of  Captain  Vitus  Bering.  He  found  that  the 
shores  of  Asia  and  America  converged  rapidly  as  they 
trended  northward,  and  finally  were  separated  only  by 
a  broad  strait.  He  found  that  the  farther  shore  was  a 
land  much  as  the  Kamchatkan  natives  had  described  it  to 
be.  As  no  civilized  power  had  yet  claimed  it,  it  would 
thenceforth  be  known  as  "Russian  America." 

The  survivors  of  the  expedition,  who  brought  this  intel- 
ligence, had  also  a  pitiful  tale  to  tell  of  their  own  dangers, 
disasters,  and  hardships.  Shipwreck,  disease,  and  death 
had  lessened  their  numbers;  and  among  the  victims  was 
their  commander.  He  had  died  of  exposure  and  fever,  and 
was  buried  on  a  desolate  island  in  the  sea.  Thenceforward 
the  sea,  the  strait,  and  the  island  would  all  bear  his  name. 

The  returned  mariners  had  also  marvellous  tales  to  tell 
of  the  newly  discovered  coast,  of  its  sables,  its  martens, 


358  The  Story  of  Alaska 

its  foxes,  and  its  sea  otters.  Already  Siberia  and  Kam- 
chatka had  been  ransacked  for  these  costly  furs,  and  now 
here  was  a  new  field,  overflowing  with  opportunities  for 
wealth. 

Traders  and  trappers  from  Siberia,  merchants  and  ad- 
venturers from  Moscow  and  St.  Petersburg  hastened  there 
by  hundreds  and  even  thousands.  They  had  to  improvise 
their  own  means  of  conveyance.  The  first  ones  hewed 
canoes  out  of  trees,  built  boats  of  planks  lashed  together 
with  strips  of  rawhide  or  sealskin. 

Later,  wealthy  merchants  built  ships  and  regularly 
engaged  in  the  fur  trade.  One  man  brought  back,  the 
first  summer,  five  thousand  skins,  and  so  achieved  a  for- 
tune. Every  such  story  brought  a  rush  of  fresh  seekers 
for  wealth. 

It  was  a  wild  and  lawless  region  for  a  time.  There  was 
no  governmental  authority  to  check  the  sway  of  drunken- 
ness and  robbery,  fraud  and  force.  The  white  men  some- 
times killed  each  other,  but  the  chief  sufferers  were  the 
poor  natives.  However,  this  came  to  an  end  when  the  im- 
perial government  slowly  extended  its  long  arm  of  power, 
and  grappled  with  its  unruly  colonists.  Military  and 
naval  and  civil  officers  were  sent  out.  Forts  were  built 
and  garrisoned.  Landing  places  and  trading  settlements 
were  established,  and  a  governor  appointed  to  supervise 
the  whole. 

Of  the  successive  Russian  governors  some  traditions 
are  still  extant,  especially  of  the  benevolent  Shelikoff,  who 
built  churches  and  schools,  opened  courts,  heard  and 
redressed  grievances,  and  sought  to  supersede  savage 
customs  by  the  usages  of  civilization.  Also,  of  the  rough, 
rugged,  hospitable  Baranoff,  who  built  his  castle  on  the 
rock  at  Sitka,  and  from  there  ruled  his  subjects  with  a 
rod  of  iron,  though  in  the  main  with  sagacity  and  rude 
justice. 


The  Story  of  Alaska  359 

Adventurers  and  traders  from  other  lands  began  to  find 
their  way  to  Russian  America,  in  such  numbers  as  to 
threaten  the  ultimate  extermination  of  the  fur-bearing 
animals.  The  Russians  wanted  to  keep  the  fur  trade  in 
their  own  hands.  They  were  ready  to  sell  furs  to  all 
comers,  but  preferred  to  control  the  hunting  and  trapping 
themselves.  The  Americans  wanted  to  share  in  the  pro- 
fitable traffic.  The  British  wanted  to  push  their  Hudson 
Bay  Company's  stations  across  the  continent  to  the 
Pacific. 

So  arose  questions  of  boundary  and  of  commercial  and 
national  rights.  It  soon  became  necessary  to  make  trea- 
ties to  define  them.  Negotiations  were  begun,  and  lasted 
several  years,  in  which  participated  such  eminent  diplo- 
matists as  Nesselrode  and  Poletica,  on  the  part  of  Russia; 
John  Quincy  Adams,  Richard  Rush,  and  Henry  Middleton, 
of  the  United  States;  and  Sir  Charles  Bagot,  Stratford 
Canning,  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  for  Great  Britain. 
Finally  all  was  duly  and  peaceably  settled.  Russia  con- 
ceded maritime  rights  and  privileges,  in  accordance  with 
international  law,  but  held  tenaciously  to  her  sovereignty 
over  the  forests  and  broad  plains  at  the  north,  and  the  long 
and  narrow  lisiere  at  the  south,  between  the  mountains 
and  the  sea.  Thus  matters  remained  for  forty  years. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  my  father,  then  a  Senator 
of  the  United  States,  in  a  speech  at  St.  Paul,  Minnesota, 
made  his  memorable  prediction : 

"Standing  here  and  looking  far  off  into  the  Northwest, 
I  see  the  Russian,  as  he  busily  occupies  himself  in  estab- 
lishing seaports  and  towns  and  fortifications  on  the  verge 
of  this  continent,  as  the  outposts  of  St.  Petersburg;  and 
I  can  say: '  Go  on,  and  build  up  your  outposts  all  along  the 
coast,  up  even  to  the  Arctic  Ocean;  they  will  yet  become 
the  outposts  of  my  own  country, — monuments  of  the 
civilization  of  the  United  States  in  the  Northwest. ' " 


360  The  Treaty  of  Purchase 

1867. 

The  Story  of  Alaska — The  Treaty  of  Purchase.  Soon 
after  this  came  our  great  Civil  War.  During  its  continu- 
ance my  father,  as  Secretary  of  State,  had  found  the 
Government  labouring  under  great  disadvantages  for  the 
lack  of  advanced  naval  outposts  in  the  West  Indies  and 
in  the  North  Pacific.  So,  at  the  close  of  hostilities,  he 
commenced  his  endeavours  to  obtain  such  a  foothold  in 
each  quarter. 

Even  as  early  as  during  the  Oregon  Debate  in  1846-7, 
the  suggestion  had  been  made  that  by  insisting  on  the 
boundary  line  of  54  degrees  40  minutes,  and  obtaining  a 
cession  from  the  Emperor  Nicholas,  the  United  States 
might  own  the  whole  Pacific  coast  up  to  the  Arctic  Circle. 
But  the  slave-holding  interest,  then  dominant  in  the  Fed- 
eral councils,  wanted  Southern,  not  Northern  extension. 
The  project  was  scouted  as  impracticable,  and  the  line  of 
54  degrees  40  minutes  was  given  up. 

Renewing  the  subject  now  through  Mr.  Stoeckl,  the 
Russian  Minister,  my  father  found  the  Government  of  the 
Czar  not  unwilling  to  discuss  it. 

Russia  would  in  no  case  allow  her  American  possessions 
to  pass  into  the  hands  of  any  European  power.  But  the 
United  States  always  had  been  and  probably  always  would 
be  a  friend.  Russian  America  was  a  remote  province  of 
the  Empire,  not  easily  defensible,  and  not  likely  to  be  soon 
developed.  Under  American  control  it  would  develop 
more  rapidly  and  be  more  easily  defended.  To  Russia, 
instead  of  a  source  of  danger,  it  might  become  a  safeguard. 
To  the  United  States,  it  would  give  a  foothold  for  commerci- 
al and  naval  operations  accessible  from  the  Pacific  States. 

Seward  and  Gortschakoff  were  not  long  in  arriving 
at  an  agreement  upon  a  subject  which,  instead  of  embar- 
rassing with  conflicting  interests,  presented  some  mutual 
advantages. 


The  Treaty  of  Purchase  361 

After  the  graver  question  of  national  ownership  came 
the  minor  one  of  pecuniary  cost.  The  measure  of  the 
value  of  land  to  an  individual  owner  is  the  amount  of 
yearly  income  it  can  be  made  to  produce.  But  national 
domain  gives  prestige,  power,  and  safety  to  the  state,  and 
so  is  not  easily  to  be  measured  by  dollars  and  cents.  Mil- 
lions cannot  purchase  these  nor  compensate  for  their 
loss. 

However,  it  was  necessary  to  fix  upon  a  definite  sum  to 
be  named  in  the  treaty, — not  so  small  as  to  belittle  the 
transaction  in  the  public  eye,  nor  so  large  as  to  deprive 
it  of  its  real  character,  as  an  act  of  friendship  on  the  part 
of  Russia  toward  the  United  States.  Neither  side  was 
especially  tenacious  about  the  amount.  The  previous 
treaties  for  the  acquisition  of  territory  from  France,  Spain, 
and  Mexico  seemed  to  afford  an  index  for  valuation. 
The  Russians  thought  $10,000,000  would  be  a  reasonable 
amount.  Seward  proposed  $5,000,000.  Dividing  the 
difference  made  it  $7,500,000.  Then,  at  Seward's  sugges- 
tion, the  half  million  was  thrown  off.  But  the  territory 
was  still  subject  to  some  franchises  and  privileges  of  the 
Russian  Fur  Company.  Seward  insisted  that  these 
should  be  extinguished  by  the  Russian  Government  before 
the  transfer,  and  was  willing  that  $200,000  should  be 
added,  on  that  account,  to  the  $7,000,000. 

At  this  valuation  of  $7,200,000,  the  bargain  could  be 
deemed  satisfactory,  even  from  the  standpoint  of  an 
individual  fisherman,  miner,  or  woodcutter,  for  the  timber, 
mines,  furs,  and  fisheries  would  easily  yield  the  annual 
interest  on  that  sum. 

On  the  evening  of  Friday,  March  29th,  Seward  was  play- 
ing whist  in  his  parlour  with  some  of  his  family,  when  the 
Russian  Minister  was  announced. 

"I  have  a  dispatch,  Mr.  Seward,  from  my  government, 
by  cable.  The  Emperor  gives  his  consent  to  the  cession. 


362  The  Treaty  of  Purchase 

Tomorrow,  if  you  like,  I  will  come  to  the  Department, 
and  we  can  enter  upon  the  treaty." 

Seward,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  pushed  away  the 
whist-table,  saying, 

"Why  wait  till  tomorrow,  Mr.  Stoeckl?  Let  us  make 
the  treaty  tonight!" 

"But  your  Department  is  closed.  You  have  no  clerks, 
and  my  secretaries  are  scattered  about  the  town. " 

"Never  mind  that,"  responded  Seward.  "If  you  can 
muster  your  legation  together,  before  midnight  you  will 
find  me  awaiting  you  at  the  Department,  which  will  be 
open  and  ready  for  business." 

In  less  than  two  hours  afterward,  light  was  streaming 
out  of  the  windows  of  the  Department  of  State,  and  ap- 
parently business  was  going  on  as  at  mid-day.  By  four 
o'clock  on  Saturday  morning,  the  treaty  was  engrossed, 
signed,  sealed,  and  ready  for  transmission  by  the  President 
to  the  Senate.  There  was  need  of  this  haste,  in  order  to 
have  it  acted  upon  before  the  end  of  the  session,  now  near 
at  hand. 

I  was  then  the  Assistant  Secretary  of  State.  To  me 
had  been  assigned  the  duty  of  finding  Mr.  Sumner,  the 
Chairman  of  the  Senate  Committee  on  Foreign  Relations, 
to  inform  him  of  the  negotiations  in  progress,  and  to  urge 
his  advocacy  of  the  treaty  in  the  Senate. 

Leutze,  the  artist,  subsequently  painted  an  historical 
picture,  representing  the  scene  at  the  Department.  It 
gives,  with  fidelity,  the  lighted  room,  the  furniture  and 
appointments.  Seward,  sitting  by  his  writing  table,  pen 
in  hand,  is  listening  to  the  Russian  Minister,  whose  ex- 
tended hand  is  just  over  the  great  globe  at  the  Secretary's 
elbow.  The  gaslight,  streaming  down  on  the  globe,  illumi- 
nates the  outline  of  the  Russian  province.  The  Chief 
Clerk,  Mr.  Chew,  is  coming  in  with  the  engrossed  copy 
of  the  treaty  for  signature.  In  the  background  stand 


The  Treaty  of  Purchase  363 

Mr.  Hunter  and  Mr.  Bodisco,  comparing  the  French  and 
English  versions,  while  Mr.  Sumner  and  I  are  sitting  in 
conference. 

On  the  following  morning,  while  the  Senate  was  con- 
sidering its  favourite  theme  of  administrative  delinquen- 
cies, the  Sergeant  at  Arms  announced,  "A  message  from 
the  President  of  the  United  States."  Glances  were  sig- 
nificantly exchanged,  with  the  muttered  remark,  "Another 
veto!"  Great  was  the  surprise  in  the  chamber,  when  the 
Secretary  read  "A  Treaty  for  the  Cession  of  Russian 
America."  Nor  was  the  surprise  lessened,  when  the 
Chairman  of  the  Foreign  Relations  Committee,  a  leading 
opponent  of  the  President,  rose  to  move  favourable  action. 
His  remarks  showed  easy  familiarity  with  the  subject, 
and  that  he  was  prepared  to  give  reasons  for  the  speedy 
approval  of  the  treaty. 

The  debate  which  followed  in  the  Senate  was  animated 
and  earnest,  but  in  the  end  the  treaty  was  confirmed  with- 
out serious  opposition.  But  the  purchase  was  not  con- 
summated without  a  storm  of  raillery  in  conversation  and 
ridicule  in  the  press.  Russian  America  was  declared  to  be 
"a  barren,  worthless,  God-forsaken  region,"  whose  only 
products  were  "icebergs  and  polar  bears."  It  was  said 
that  the  ground  was  "frozen  six  feet  deep,"  and  "the 
streams  were  glaciers."  "Walrussia, "  was  suggested 
as  a  name  for  it,  if  it  deserved  to  have  any.  Vegetation 
was  said  to  be  "limited  to  mosses";  and  "no  useful  ani- 
mals could  live  there."  There  might  be  some  few 
"wretched  fish,"  only  fit  for  "wretched  Esquimaux"  to 
eat.  But  nothing  could  be  raised  or  dug  there.  Seven 
millions  of  good  money  were  going  to  be  wasted  in  buying 
it.  Many  millions  more  would  have  to  be  spent  in  holding 
and  defending  it, — for  it  was  "remote,  inhospitable,  and 
inaccessible."  It  was  "  Seward's  Folly. "  It  was  "John- 
son's Polar  Bear  Garden."  It  was  "an  egregious 


364  The  Treaty  of  Purchase 

blunder,"  "a  bad  bargain,"  palmed  off  on  "a  silly  Ad- 
ministration" by  the  "shrewd  Russians,"  etc. 

Most  of  these  jeers  and  flings  were  from  those  who 
disliked  the  President  and  blamed  Seward  for  remaining 
in  his  Cabinet.  Perhaps  unwillingness  to  admit  that 
anything  wise  or  right  could  be  done  by  "Andy  Johnson's 
Administration"  was  the  real  reason  for  the  wrath  visited 
upon  the  unoffending  territory.  The  feeling  of  hostility 
to  the  purchase  was  so  strong  that  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives would  not  take  action  toward  accepting  the 
territory  or  appropriate  any  money  to  pay  for  it. 

The  Russian  Government  courteously  waived  any  de- 
mand for  immediate  payment  and  signified  readiness  to 
make  the  final  transfer  whenever  the  United  States  might 
desire.  Accordingly  commissioners  were  appointed,  who 
proceeded  to  Sitka. 

On  a  bright  day  in  August,  1867,  with  brief  but  impres- 
sive ceremonies,  amid  salutes  from  the  Russian  and 
American  naval  vessels,  the  American  flag  was  raised  over 
the  new  territory  to  be  thenceforth  known  as  "Alaska." 

This  ceremony  might  be  called  the  christening  as  well  as 
the  transfer.  The  territory  had  previously  been  known 
as  "Russian  America."  During  the  progress  of  the 
treaty  through  the  Senate,  there  were  occasional  discus- 
sions in  the  State  Department  and  in  the  Cabinet  as  to 
the  name  to  be  bestowed  upon  it  by  the  United  States. 
Several  were  suggested  as  appropriate,  among  them 
"Sitka,"  the  name  of  its  capital,  "Yukon,"  that  of  its 
chief  river,  "Aliaska"  or  "Alaska,"  derived  from  the 
name  of  its  great  peninsula  "  Oonalaska, "  and  "  Aleutia, " 
derived  from  its  chain  of  islands.  Seward,  with  whom  the 
final  decision  rested,  preferred  "Alaska"  as  being  brief, 
euphonious,  and  suitable.  The  name  was  generally 
accepted  with  favour  and  began  to  be  used  before  the 
transfer  was  made. 


My  Father's  Diary — and  Others        365 

It  was  not  until  the  27th  of  July,  in  the  following  year, 
that  the  act  making  appropriation  to  pay  for  Alaska  was 
finally  passed  and  approved — the  Chairman  of  the  Foreign 
Affairs  Committee  of  the  House,  General  Banks,  being  its 
effective  advocate.  On  the  next  day  the  Secretary  of 
State  made  his  requisition  upon  the  Treasury  for  $7,200- 
ooo,  to  be  paid  to  the  Russian  Government. 

The  United  States  at  first  merely  garrisoned  the  forts 
at  Wrangell,  Tongass,  and  Sitka  with  small  detachments 
of  troops.  The  Russian  inhabitants  generally  remained, 
but  they  were  few  in  number.  The  Indians  were  peace- 
able and  friendly  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  forts,  though 
sometimes  belligerent  in  the  remoter  regions. 

A  shrewd  old  Indian  chief  was  one  day  watching  the 
soldiers  drilling  at  Sitka.  He  said  to  the  commander, 
"What  for  you  work  your  men  on  land  with  guns?  Why 
you  no  work  them  on  water  with  canoes?"  It  was  a 
valuable  suggestion.  As  the  Indians  lived  principally  on 
fish  and  marine  animals  their  villages  were  all  on  the  shores 
of  bays,  sounds,  and  rivers.  Armed  vessels  patrolling  the 
waters  could  easily  control  them,  while  soldiers  cooped 
up  in  garrison  or  struggling  through  forests  would  be 
useless.  When  this  became  understood  at  Washington, 
naval  vessels  and  revenue  cutters  were  ordered  to  Alaskan 
waters  and  rendered  good  service  there. 

My  Father's  Diary — and  Others.  One  day,  during  his 
first  week  in  the  Department  of  State,  my  father  requested 
me  to  get  a  blank  book  for  him,  remarking  that  as  the 
epoch  would  probably  be  one  of  historic  importance,  he 
should  begin  to  keep  a  diary.  A  suitable  book  was  ob- 
tained and  laid  upon  his  table. 

On  the  following  morning  he  came  out  of  his  room  with 
the  book  in  his  hand.  In  giving  it  back  to  me,  he  said : 

"There  is  the  first  page  of  my  diary  and  the  last.     One 


366        My  Father's  Diary — and  Others 

day's  record  satisfies  me  that  if  I  should  every  day  set 
down  my  hasty  impressions,  based  on  half  information,  I 
should  do  injustice  to  everybody  around  me,  and  to  none 
more  than  to  my  most  intimate  friends." 

The  book  still  remains  with  its  one  written  page. 

At  the  time,  I  thought  his  decision  was  a  wise  one,  and 
subsequently,  perusal  of  what  purport  to  be  extracts  from 
the  diaries  of  well-known  public  men  convince  me  of  the 
correctness  of  that  judgment. 

When,  in  1913,  I  read  in  Mr.  Bigelow's  diary  the  story 
of  the  enormous  lobby  fees  in  connection  with  the  Alaska 
bill,  the  question  naturally  occurred  to  me.  Why  should 
my  father  tell  the  story  to  Mr.  Bigelow  instead  of  telling 
it  to  me?  I  was  with  him,  and  in  his  daily  confidence, 
knew  about  the  bill  being  held  up  in  Congress,  and  was 
quite  as  anxious  as  he  was  for  its  passage.  Yet  he  never 
told  the  story  to  me  at  all ! 

Another  defect  of  the  story  seemed  to  be:  where  did  the 
money  come  from?  The  full  amount  of  $7,200,000  was 
paid  over  to  the  Russian  Minister,  as  the  books  of  the 
Treasury  show,  and  as  the  Treasury  warrant  also  attests. 
There  was  no  other  fund  to  take  it  from.  The  small 
annual  appropriation  for  diplomatic  work,  known  as  "the 
secret- service  fund, "  would  not  begin  to  meet  such  heavy 
payments.  To  suppose  that  anyone  would  carry  such  an 
amount  in  his  pockets,  or  keep  it  in  his  bank  account,  of 
course  would  be  absurd. 

My  own  conjecture  is,  that  he  told  Mr.  Bigelow,  who 
had  recently  arrived  from  Paris,  the  sort  of  news  that  he 
might  expect  to  find  flying  around  Washington  and  the 
lobbies  of  the  Capitol,  and  that  Mr.  Bigelow,  not  fully 
comprehending  that  these  were  canards,  went  home  and 
set  them  down  in  his  diary  as  actual  facts. 

Certainly  there  were  plenty  of  such  stories  at  that  time. 
The  air  was  full  of  them.  Various  rumours  were  afloat 


My  Father's  Diary — and  Others        367 

to  the  effect  that  some  of  the  purchase  money  had  been 
used  to  corrupt  agents  of  the  Russian  Government,  or  to 
buy  votes  in  Congress,  or  to  subsidize  newspapers,  etc. 
A  committee  was  directed  by  the  House  of  Representatives 
to  investigate  the  tales,  and  soon  found  that  most  of 
them  were  malicious  and  all  of  them  absurd.  This  in- 
vestigation is  described  in  my  memoirs  of  my  father's  life, 
on  page  392  of  the  third  volume.  Its  proceedings  will  be 
found  in  the  Congressional  Record  of  the  year  1868. 

The  Secretary  of  State  appeared  before  this  committee 
and  said: 

"I  gave  notice  to  the  Russian  Minister  that  the  requi- 
sition had  been  made,  and  that  he  could  call  upon  the 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury  for  the  money.  I  assume,  upon 
general  information,  that  the  money  was  paid.  I  do  not 
know  when  it  was  paid  out  of  the  Treasury,  nor  to  whom 
it  was  paid.  I  know  nothing  whatever  of  the  use  the 
Russian  Minister  made  of  the  fund.  I  know  of  no  pay- 
ment to  anybody  by  him. 

"  In  regard  to  all  those  allegations,  I  have  no  knowledge. 
I  thought  the  Alaska  purchase  a  very  good,  proper,  and 
national  achievement;  and  out  of  the  funds  of  the  State 
Department,  therefore,  I  subscribed  for  a  small  number  of 
the  speeches  made  by  Mr.  Charles  Sumner,  to  be  used  for 
the  information  of  the  public  and  of  Congress.  Various 
persons,  some  connected  and  others  not  connected  with  the 
government,  patriotic  gentlemen  as  I  supposed,  came  to 
give  me  their  cordial  support  and  co-operation  in  the 
matter;  and  among  the  rest  were  Mr.  Sumner  and  Mr. 
Robert  J.  Walker.  Whenever  I  found  they  were  in  pos- 
session of  information  or  arguments  which  would  be  useful, 
such  as  documentary  information,  I  received  it  and  trans- 
mitted it  to  Congress,  who  had  it  published.  All  that  I 
ever  did,  or  that  I  ever  expended,  was  in  that  way,  and  in 
no  other,  and  no  engagement  was  ever  made  with  any- 


368  Oriental  Indemnity  Funds 

body  for  any  part  of  the  purchase-money,  or  any  other 
fund. 

"My  impression  is  that  the  whole  expense  and  cost  to 
the  United  States  Government  for  the  negotiation,  pay- 
ment, and  everything,  did  not  exceed  $500.  As  to  any 
other  fund  to  subsidize  or  propitiate  the  press,  or  any 
person  connected  therewith,  I  have  knowledge  that  no 
fund  at  the  State  Department  went  to  subsidize  any  press 
anywhere.  But  when  I  found  there  was  a  continued  fire 
all  along  the  line  of  the  press  against  the  Alaska  purchase 
and  the  purchase  of  St.  John's  and  St.  Thomas,  and  I  read 
how  valueless  these  possessions  were,  by  reason  of  per- 
petual icebergs  in  Alaska,  and  the  universal  cannonading 
of  volcanoes  and  hurricanes  down  through  the  West  Indies, 
I  recollected  the  attacks  of  the  Federal  party  upon  Mr. 
Jefferson's  Administration  for  making  the  purchase  of 
Louisiana.  I  was  familiar  with  that  literature  in  my 
boyhood,  as  you  all  probably  were,  and  I  sent  a  young 
man — Mr.  Dimon — to  New  York  and  Albany  for  the 
purpose  of  collecting  from  the  Federal  press  (remaining 
in  public  libraries)  extracts  and  articles  attacking  Mr. 
Jefferson  in  such  papers.  He  collected  and  sent  them  to 
me. 

"These  articles  were  published  through  the  press,  so 
far  as  they  would  do  it  gratuitously,  but  in  no  other  way. 
That  is  all  I  know  of  the  influence  upon  the  press. " 

He  might  have  added  that  among  the  accusations  made 
against  him  at  this  time  was  that  of  being  an  accomplice 
in  the  attempt  at  his  own  assassination. 

1867. 

Oriental  Indemnity  Funds.  When  a  man  pays  us  more 
money  than  we  are  entitled  to,  the  simple  and  honest  way 
to  do,  is  to  hand  the  surplus  back  to  him.  But  when  the 
transaction  is  between  two  great  governments,  it  is  not  so 


Oriental  Indemnity  Funds  369 

easy.  Government  financial  machinery  is  intricate  and 
complex.  And  there  are  always  political  casuists  to  prove 
that  the  rules  of  ordinary  morality  do  not  apply  to  the  case. 

So,  when  Mr.  Baker,  the  disbursing  agent  of  the  State 
Department,  informed  the  Secretary  of  State  that  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  Japanese  indemnity  fund  was  still 
remaining  in  his  hands,  my  father  inquired,  "How  does 
this  happen,  Mr.  Baker?" 

The  reply  was  that  the  respective  claims  of  the  various 
claimants  had  all  been  audited  and  paid,  and  there  was 
still  some  money  left. 

"Why  not  pay  it  back  to  Japan?" 

The  reply  to  this  was — "Nothing  can  be  paid  by  govern- 
ment officers  except  under  provisions  of  law,  and  there  is 
no  law  applicable  to  this  case. " 

"How  was  the  money  paid  to  us? " 

"In  Japanese  gold,"  was  the  reply. 

"Ask  Mr.  Hunter  what  precedent  there  is — how  have 
other  governments  treated  such  matters." 

Mr.  Hunter  was  not  aware  there  had  ever  been  a  pre- 
cedent. Most  governments  take  all  they  can  get  and  seem 
to  be  rather  proud  of  doing  it. 

Evidently  the  United  States  had  asked  and  received 
more  money  than  they  were  entitled  to.  The  Secretary  of 
State  stated  the  facts  of  the  case  in  Cabinet  meeting,  and 
suggested  that  the  President,  in  a  message  to  Congress, 
should  request  authority  to  make  proper  restitution  of  the 
money.  This  was  agreed  to,  and  the  President  did  so. 

But  when  the  matter  thus  came  before  Congress  there 
were  debates  and  delays.  It  was  urged  that  it  would  be 
folly  to  pay  back  the  money  when  Japan  had  not  asked 
for  it.  It  was  argued  that  to  pay  it  back  would  be  a  con- 
fession that  we  had  been  in  the  wrong  in  demanding  it, 
which  would  be  humiliating  to  the  nation.  Then  it  was 
said  that  to  pay  it  back  would  be  to  expose  the  Japanese 

34 


370  Oriental  Indemnity  Funds 

officials  to  the  censures  of  their  people,  for  having  yielded 
to  an  unjust  demand.  Then  it  was  proposed  to  use  it  for 
some  public  enterprise  that  would  benefit  both  countries — 
a  Pacific  coast  university — a  school  of  diplomacy — Lega- 
tion buildings — ships — forts — telegraphs,  etc.  Congress 
is  not  only  a  deliberative  body,  but  a  controversial  one. 
So  the  session  rolled  away,  and  nothing  was  done. 

Finding  that  there  was  likely  to  be  delay  before  a  de- 
cision could  be  reached  in  Congress,  the  Secretary  of  State 
now  directed  that  the  money  should  be  invested  in  govern- 
ment registered  bonds,  as  the  best  way  to  keep  it  safely. 
Session  after  session  passed,  the  President's  messages 
again  and  again  called  attention  to  it,  but  still  Congress 
reached  no  conclusion. 

Meanwhile  the  credit  of  the  United  States  appreciated. 

The  bonds  bought  at  a  discount  and  paid  for  in  gold 
rose  rapidly  in  value.  Interest  accrued  on  them,  was  paid 
and  reinvested  "in  like  manner."  So  the  $606,838 
originally  received  from  Japan  amounted  in  1869  to  a 
much  larger  sum. 

Here  began  new  perplexities,  and  fresh  debates  in  Con- 
gress. It  was  argued  that  even  if  Japan  was  entitled  to 
the  original  amount,  she  was  not  entitled  to  the  interest. 
At  any  rate,  how  could  she  be  entitled  to  the  additional 
amount  which  our  thrifty  government  had  earned  at  com- 
pound interest?  And  if  she  was  paid  the  original  surplus, 
dollar  for  dollar,  in  gold,  what  should  be  done  with  the 
residue? 

Another  similar  indemnity  fund  had  now  been  received 
from  China.  In  this  case  the  balance  over  and  above  the 
audited  claims,  by  the  same  careful  management,  had 
much  increased. 

The  two  Eastern  governments,  with  becoming  sense  of 
their  dignity,  looked  on  placidly,  and  declined  to  make 
any  complaint  or  demand,  saying  that  they  left  the  whole 


The  Japanese  Commissioners  371 

matter  to  the  wisdom  and  friendship  of  the  United  States 
Government,  in  which  they  had  entire  confidence. 

My  father  directed  that  exact  account  should  be  kept, 
so  that,  in  due  time,  the  amounts  should  be  turned  over 
to  his  successor,  to  be  held  until  Congress  should  finally 
decide. 

Ultimately,  after  a  few  more  years  of  delay,  Congress 
found  it  to  be  both  wise  and  right  to  pay  the  money  back 
to  Japan  and  China,  in  such  manner  as  to  convince  them 
that  we  were  actuated  solely  by  desire  for  fair  and  honest 
dealing.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  action  of  the  United 
States  in  these  matters  came  to  the  Oriental  governments 
as  an  agreeable  surprise,  and  led  them  to  the  opinion  that 
there  was  one  government,  at  least,  to  which  they  might 
look  for  friendship  and  justice. 

Forty  years  have  now  elapsed,  and  Japan  and  China 
have  repeatedly  asked  the  United  States  for  advice  and 
counsel  in  governmental  reforms — have  employed  Ameri- 
can advisers  in  making  such  reforms,  and  have  sent  their 
young  men  to  the  United  States  to  be  educated  in  modern 
methods.  How  much  of  the  change  that  has  occurred  in 
those  governments  is  attributable  to  the  moral  influence 
of  these  events,  it  is  impossible  to  estimate. 

Certainly  it  would  have  seemed,  forty  years  ago,  most 
unlikely  that  we  should  be  dealing  today  with  Japan  as  a 
modern  parliamentary  government,  and  China  as  a  full- 
fledged  republic. 

1867. 

The  Japanese  Commissioners.  General  Van  Valken- 
burg,  who  was  now,  in  1867,  the  American  Minister  to 
Japan,  wrote  that  the  Japanese,  having  emerged  from  their 
long  seclusion,  were  desirous  of  a  better  understanding 
with  the  other  nations. 

Commercial  facilities  were  accordingly  extended,  and 


372  The  Japanese  Commissioners 

diplomatic  intercourse  was  enlarged.  They  manifested 
not  only  a  commendable  curiosity  in  regard  to  for- 
eign ways  and  customs  and  inventions,  but  also  a  de- 
sire to  adopt  any  that  might  be  found  better  than  their 
own. 

He  reported  that  the  Government  had  carried  out  their 
engagements  relative  to  the  opening  of  ports,  "in  so 
liberal  a  manner,  as  not  only  to  satisfy  my  colleagues  and 
myself,  but  also  to  inspire  me  with  perfect  confidence." 
Sites  for  foreign  settlements  were  selected  at  Hiogo,  Osaka, 
and  Yeddo,  and  arrangements  made  for  the  appoint- 
ment of  consular  officers.  Persecution  of  Christians  was 
abandoned  and  Christian  houses  of  worship  were  to  be 
established. 

Two  commissioners  were  to  be  sent  out  in  accordance 
with  this  new  policy.  They  bore  the  sonorous  names  of 
Ono  Tomogoro  and  Matsumoto  Judayu.  They  were  to 
visit  navy  yards,  arsenals,  foundries,  machine  shops,  etc., 
and  if  possible  purchase  one  or  more  ships  of  war. 

The  commissioners  duly  arrived  by  way  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, with  their  secretaries,  interpreters,  and  suite. 
Among  them  were  two  officers  of  the  modern  navy  about 
to  be  established  by  Japan. 

They  were  all  installed  in  lodgings  at  Wormley's.  The 
Secretary  of  State  received  them  at  the  Department,  and 
in  the  evening  they  called  at  his  house.  As  several  of 
them  were  of  such  rank  as  to  be  "two-sworded  men," 
and  as  it  was  not  in  accordance  with  Japanese  etiquette 
to  wear  these  ornaments  into  a  parlour,  quite  a  pile  of 
swords  accumulated  at  the  door.  Their  costumes  were 
of  gay  colours,  and  mostly  of  silk  on  this  occasion,  though 
they  intimated  that  they  had  tried  the  American  costume 
at  San  Francisco,  and  that  some  of  them  had  provided 
themselves  with  frock  coats  and  hats,  "if  it  will  not  be 
deemed  improper  for  us  to  wear  them." 


The  Japanese  Commissioners  373 

They  regarded  with  polite  curiosity  the  pictures  and 
furniture  which  were  novel  to  them,  but  recognized  as  a 
familiar  friend  a  Japanese  chess  table  which  stood  in  the 
room,  and  seated  themselves  at  it  to  show  that  they  under- 
stood the  game. 

Tea  was  served,  and  when  I  inquired  if  it  was  at  all  like 
what  they  had  at  home,  they  evaded  replying.  They  said 
that  it  was  very  good  and  they  liked  it,  and  asked  of  what 
plant  it  was  made  in  this  country?  A  small  statuette  of 
Buddha  stood  on  the  mantel.  This,  one  of  the  Secretaries 
observed,  and  said  that  at  Yeddo  there  was  a  statue  of  that 
deity  sixty  feet  high.  On  my  expressing  surprise,  they 
replied  through  the  interpreter  that  "though  he  was  so 
big  they  did  not  believe  in  him. " 

They  were  presented  on  the  following  day  to  the  Presi- 
dent. A  dinner  was  given  to  them  by  the  Secretary  of 
State,  and  Senator  Sumner  as  chairman  of  the  Foreign 
Relations  Committee,  Baron  Gerolt  as  Dean  of  the  Diplo- 
matic Corps,  and  Admiral  Porter  as  head  of  the  navy,  were 
invited  to  meet  them.  After  dinner  there  was  an  evening 
reception,  to  which  many  ladies  came.  The  commis- 
sioners expressed  their  satisfaction  at  meeting  them,  and 
regretted  that  the  customs  of  their  country  had  not  per- 
mitted them  to  bring  their  wives. 

On  the  following  day  an  officer  of  the  State  Department 
was  detailed  to  accompany  them  in  their  explorations  and 
sightseeing.  He  reported  that  they  inspected  all  the 
chief  public  buildings  with  grave  demeanour,  and  made 
intelligent  inquiries  and  comments  in  regard  to  them. 
Then,  going  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  they  visited 
various  shops.  Rather  to  his  surprise,  the  jewelry  and 
drygoods  seemed  to  interest  them  but  little,  but  they  were 
highly  pleased  with  the  novelties  which  they  found  in  the 
hardware  and  tinsmiths'  shops.  The  tinware  especially 
delighted  them,  and  they  made  many  inquiries  as  to  its 


374          The  Japanese  Commissioners 

manufacture — exclaiming  "it  is  so  beautiful  and  so  cheap. 
It  should  be  introduced  into  Japan. " 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  their  visits  to  the  Arsenal  and 
Navy  Yard  were  even  more  painstaking  and  fruitful  of 
results.  Nothing  seemed  to  escape  their  observation. 
Subsequent  events  in  the  wars  of  Japan  have  shown  that 
the  information  thus  gained  for  their  government  was 
promptly  and  wisely  used. 

When  my  father  and  I  went  to  make  an  official  call  on 
them,  at  Wormleys,  we  found  Ono  Tomogoro  standing 
surrounded  by  his  secretaries  and  interpreters  and  arrayed 
in  his  official  robes  of  flowered  satin.  But  his  colleague, 
Matsumoto  Judayu,  came  forward  with  evident  pride,  to 
show  us  that  he  had  adopted  the  American  costume,  which 
we  could  not  help  thinking  was  not  so  becoming  or  dig- 
nified as  his  own.  Among  the  subordinates,  also,  there 
were  signs  of  the  adoption  of  Western  habiliments. 

When  Ono  Tomogoro  courteously  waived  us  to  seats, 
and  ordered  the  customary  tea  to  be  brought,  there  was  a 
hasty  colloquy  with  one  of  his  secretaries.  Turning  to  us, 
he  said  with  a  smile:  "In  Japan  we  offer  our  visitors 
always  tea,  but  my  secretary  informs  me  that  the  custom 
in  America  is  champagne."  We  had  some  difficulty  in 
assuring  him  that  champagne  was  not  the  national  drink 
which  we  offered  to  all  comers. 

The  Commissioners  remained  in  Washington  some 
weeks,  and  were  frequent  visitors  at  the  Department,  as 
•  well  as  at  the  house  of  the  Secretary.  They  asked  the  aid 
of  the  government  to  enable  them  to  purchase  arms  with 
the  latest  scientific  improvements  and  to  build  a  ship  of 
war  with  the  latest  modern  appliances. 

One  of  the  chief  purposes  of  their  mission  was  accom- 
plished when  they  purchased  the  Stonewall.  This  vessel, 
built  for  the  Confederates,  now  belonged  to  the  United 
States.  The  Secretary  of  State  wrote  to  General  Van 


China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy  .375 

Valkenburg  advising  him  of  the  purchase  and  saying  that 
the  Stonewall  was  fitting  for  sea  at  the  Washington  Navy 
Yard,  and  that  Captain  Brown  of  the  Navy  had  been 
granted  leave  of  absence,  to  aid  in  the  transfer  of  the  vessel 
to  Yokohama.  Part  of  the  purchase  money  was  paid 
down  in  gold  by  the  Japanese,  the  rest  was  to  be  remitted 
from  Yeddo.  He  added  in  the  dispatch,  "  It  is  hoped  that 
the  Commissioners  who  are  now  crossing  the  Pacific  on 
their  way  to  Japan  will  carry  back  with  them  an  impression 
of  us  as  agreeable  as  that  made  by  themselves. " 

China's  Entry  into  the  Field  of  Diplomacy.  Prince 
Kung,  the  Regent  of  China,  gave  a  farewell  dinner  to 
Anson  Burlingame,  on  the  occasion  of  his  resignation  and 
return  home.  It  was  attended  by  several  of  the  high 
Chinese  officials. 

Great  regret  was  expressed  at  his  departure,  and  urgent 
requests  made  that  he  would,  like  Sir  Frederick  Bruce, 
state  China's  difficulties,  and  inform  the  treaty  powers  of 
the  desire  of  the  Chinese  to  be  friendly  and  progressive. 

China's  isolated  position  among  nations  had  exposed 
her  to  foreign  intrigues  and  designs,  and  she  had  no  repre- 
sentatives of  her  own  to  prevent  or  defend  her  against 
them. 

During  the  conversation  at  the  dinner,  Wan  Siang,  a 
leading  councillor  of  the  Prince,  said  to  Burlingame,  "Why 
will  you  not  represent  us  officially?  "  At  first  Burlingame 
supposed  this  was  but  an  exaggerated  form  of  Chinese 
politeness,  but  he  soon  learned  that  the  proposal  was 
seriously  made.  He  was  requested  to  delay  his  departure 
a  few  days  until  a  formal  proposition  was  made  requesting 
him  to  act  for  China  as  ambassador  to  all  the  treaty 
powers.  He  wrote  to  my  father : 

"  I  thought  anxiously  upon  the  subject,  and,  after  a  con- 
sultation with  my  friends,  determined  in  the  interest  of 


376  China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy 

our  country  and  of  civilization  to  accept.  My  colleagues 
approved  of  the  action  of  the  Chinese,  and  did  all  they 
could  to  forward  the  interests  of  the  mission.  Two  Chinese 
gentlemen  of  the  highest  rank  were  selected  from  the 
foreign  office  to  conduct  the  Chinese  correspondence,  and 
as  '  learners. '  My  suite  will  number  about  thirty  persons. 
I  shall  leave  for  the  United  States  by  the  February  steamer 
for  California. " 

My  father  received  and  answered  this  letter,  with  his 
hearty  approval.  He  at  once  made  arrangements  for  the 
reception  of  this  novel  legation.  They  arrived  in  Wash- 
ington about  the  first  of  June.  Their  credentials  read: 
"Anson  Burlingame,  of  the  first  Chinese  rank,  Envoy 
Extraordinary,  and  High  Minister  Plenipotentiary,  and 
Chih  Kang  and  Sun  Chia  Ku  of  the  second  Chinese  rank, 
associated  High  Envoys  and  Ministers,  respectively,  to 
the  United  States  of  America." 

Burlingame  came  to  our  house  in  the  evening  prior  to 
the  delivery  of  these  credentials.  He  desired  to  consult 
my  father  as  to  whether  his  becoming  a  Chinese  Minister 
would  interfere  with  his  status  as  an  American  citizen. 
My  father's  judgment  was,  that  no  such  obstacle  existed, 
as  Burlingame  had  already  informed  the  Chinese  Govern- 
ment that,  while  endeavouring  to  serve  them  to  the  best 
of  his  ability,  he  must  adhere  to  his  native  allegiance. 

"But,  Burlingame,  how  about  the  personal  audience? 
You  are  now  the  representative  of  the  Celestial  Empire, 
with  which  a  grave  diplomatic  question,  about  'personal 
audience  by  the  Emperor,'  has  been  pending  for  years. 
If  the  American  Minister  is  not  received  by  the  head  of 
the  Government,  at  Peking,  how  can  the  Chinese  Minister 
be  received  by  the  head  of  the  Government  in  Washing- 
ton? We  must  find  some  way  of  bridging  that  difficulty. " 

Fortunately  it  happened  that  the  Emperor  of  China, 
at  this  juncture,  was  only  a  small  boy,  and  this  enabled 


China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy  377 

the  Secretary  of  State  to  bridge  over  the  difficulty  by  this 
formal  reply. 

"  It  is  well  understood  that,  owing  to  the  minority  of  the 
Emperor  of  China,  the  sovereign  authority  is  now  exer- 
cised by  a  regency.  Reserving  therefore  and  waiving, 
though  only  during  the  Emperor's  minority,  the  question 
concerning  the  privilege  of  personal  audience  by  the  head 
of  the  Chinese  Government,  the  President  will  receive  their 
Excellencies  the  High  Ministers  of  China,  on  Friday  at 
12  o'clock  at  the  Executive  Mansion." 

On  the  appointed  day  President  Johnson  cordially  re- 
ceived the  new  Chinese  envoys.  Burlingame  began  his 
address  by  saying  that,  if  he  had  not  been  kindly  relieved 
from  embarrassment  by  the  Secretary  of  State,  his  first 
duty  on  this  occasion  would  be  to  "explain  how  it  is  that 
I,  who  left  this  capital  seven  years  ago  as  a  Minister  of  the 
United  States  to  China,  have  now  returned  here  a  Minis- 
ter from  China  to  the  United  States. " 

He  announced  that  the  Chinese  Government  now  ac- 
cepted the  system  of  International  Law  in  use  among 
the  Western  Powers,  and  was  now  about  to  open  a  reg- 
ular diplomatic  intercourse  not  only  with  the  United 
States,  but  with  Belgium,  Denmark,  France,  Great  Brit- 
ain, Holland,  Italy,  North  Germany,  Russia,  Spain,  and 
Sweden. 

The  President's  reply  welcomed  the  coming  of  the 
Legation  as  an  evidence  of  the  growth  of  mutual  trust  and 
confidence,  as  well  as  of  the  sagacity  of  the  Chinese  govern- 
ment. In  conclusion  he  said  he  would  "build  upon  this 
day's  transaction  an  expectation  that  the  great  empire, 
instead  of  remaining  as  heretofore  merely  passive,  will 
henceforth  be  induced  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  general 
progress  of  civilization." 

The  Legation  was  installed  at  Brown's  Hotel,  in  a 
spacious  suite  of  rooms.  The  great  yellow  flag,  bearing 


378  China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy 

the  Imperial  Dragon,  floated  in  the  breeze  from  the  roof  of 
the  hotel  during  their  stay. 

Needless  to  say  that  many  anxious  observers  were  at- 
tracted there  for  a  glimpse  of  their  faces,  and  cues,  their 
caps  with  insignia  of  rank,  and  their  gorgeous  robes  of 
flowered  satin.  Needless  also  to  say  that  visitors  were 
welcomed  with  many  affable  smiles,  and  very  little  English. 

Mr.  Burlingame  kept  his  American  name  and  costume. 
The  Chinese  associate  Envoys  were  styled  "Sun-Taj en," 
and  "  Chih-Tajen. "  Their  chief  was  also  entitled  to  be 
styled  "  Burlin-Tajen, "  the  title  so  appended  having  a 
meaning  equivalent  to  the  European  prefix  of  "His 
Excellency. " 

The  secretaries  and  attaches  were  selected  by  the  For- 
eign Office  with  reference  to  their  proficiency  in  the  various 
languages  required.  Thus  two  could  speak  French,  two 
German,  two  Italian,  two  Russian,  and  two  Dutch. 

Now  came  the  work  on  the  treaty.  It  was  elaborate, 
because  it  was  hoped  that  the  other  powers  might  take  it 
as  a  model  for  similar  ones. 

As  the  period  was  one  of  high  political  excitement  over 
"reconstruction"  and  "impeachment,"  it  was  thought 
best,  in  order  to  avoid  delay  from  unfriendly  criticism  and 
partisan  wrangling,  to  admit  as  few  people  as  possible  to 
knowledge  of  its  provisions  beforehand.  So  the  example 
of  the  Alaska  treaty  was  followed.  The  ordinary  course 
of  protocols  and  notes  and  references  was  omitted.  The 
Secretary  of  State  and  the  three  "Taj en"  agreed  upon  the 
various  points  in  verbal  conference. 

The  treaty  placed  China  in  an  entirely  new  attitude 
toward  other  Powers.  Instead  of  remaining  a  remote, 
secluded  empire,  yielding  reluctant  concessions,  she  now 
gave  her  adhesion  to  the  principles  of  Western  Interna- 
tional Law,  and  to  more  advanced  doctrines  in  regard  to 
personal  rights  than  most  Western  nations  had  yet  been 


China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy  379 

able  to  adopt.  The  treaty  guaranteed  liberty  of  con- 
science, and  protection  from  persecution  on  account  of 
religious  opinions.  It  recognized  the  right  of  man  to 
change  his  home  and  religious  belief,  and  also  the  mutual 
advantage  of  immigration  and  emigration,  for  trade, 
travel,  or  permanent  residence.  It  pledged  neutrality  in 
war,  and  forbade  foreign  nations  to  carry  their  mutual 
quarrels  into  China.  It  opened  public  educational  in- 
stitutions, and  gave  the  right  to  establish  schools.  It 
provided  for  diplomatic  and  consular  intercourse,  for 
international  improvements  and  closer  relations  of  inter- 
national friendships. 

A  state  dinner  was  given  at  the  White  House  to  the 
Chinese  Envoys,  and  they  received  many  other  hospitali- 
ties. My  father  entertained  them  at  Washington,  and 
subsequently  on  their  northern  trip  met  them  on  the  way, 
and,  opening  his  home  at  Auburn,  received  them  there. 
From  there  they  went  to  Niagara  Falls. 

Chih-Tajen  and  Sun-Taj  en  took  part  in  the  verbal  con- 
ferences, as  well  as  in  the  drafting  of  the  treaty.  They 
offered  no  objections,  but  on  the  contrary  highly  approved 
its  advanced  ideas.  They  brought  with  them  a  bulky 
volume  containing  a  translation  into  Chinese  of  Wheaton's 
International  Law.  Its  title  in  Chinese  literally  trans- 
lated read,  All  Nations'  Public  Laws. 

They  were  especially  solicitous  not  to  offend  by  any 
infraction  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Western 
nations,  which  they  were  desirous  to  learn  and  adopt. 
At  the  State  dinner,  Chih-Tajen  inquired  of  me  whether 
it  would  be  any  infraction  of  the  rules  of  politeness  to  taste 
each  one  of  the  several  courses  presented  to  him.  I  told 
him  that  it  was  exactly  what  I  should  do  if  I  went  to  a 
State  dinner  in  China.  They  declined  my  invitation  to  go 
to  St.  John's  Church,  although  anxious  to  witness  the 
ceremonies,  as  they  feared  they  might  give  offence  by  not 


380  China's  Entry  into  Field  of  Diplomacy 

knowing  when  to  get  up  and  sit  down.  I  told  them  it 
would  not  be  expected  of  them  to  conform  to  those  usages, 
and  even  offered  to  take  a  seat  at  the  back  where  they 
would  not  be  noticed.  But  they  thought  on  the  whole  it 
was  best  to  abstain  from  going. 

Mr.  Burlingame  frequently  adverted  to  the  aid  he  had 
received  in  China  from  four  of  the  other  Ministers  at  that 
Court,  Sir  Frederick  Bruce  of  England,  M.  Berthemy  the 
French  Minister,  and  MM.  Balluzek  and  Vlangally  the 
Russian  Envoys.  A  familiar  phrase  at  the  Court  de- 
scribed the  "four  busy  B's"  as  the  leaders  of  advanced 
opinion,  both  in  the  diplomatic  circle  and  among  the 
Chinese  themselves,  in  favour  of  a  liberal  and  progressive 
policy  between  China  and  the  Western  powers. 

When  my  father  visited  China  in  his  journey  round  the 
world  in  1870,  among  his  first  visitors  at  Shanghai  were 
Chih-Tajen  and  Sun-Tajen.  They  announced  to  him  the 
success  of  their  diplomatic  labours  in  Europe,  condoled 
with  him  on  the  death  of  Mr.  Burlingame,  and  thanked 
him  over  and  over  again  for  the  aid  they  had  received  from 
him  in  their  mission,  and  dwelt  long  and  gratefully  on 
the  hospitalities  which  they  had  enjoyed  in  the  United 
States. 

At  Peking,  he  had  a  long  and  interesting  conversation 
with  Wan  Siang,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  Wan 
Siang  was  the  master  spirit  who  led  the  Chinese  Govern- 
ment in  the  enterprise  of  entering  into  diplomatic  rela- 
tions with  the  Western  powers.  He  had  asked,  and 
obtained  from  my  father,  the  copy  of  Wheaton's  Law  of 
Nations,  and  had  it  translated  and  adopted  by  the  imperial 
government.  He,  more  than  any  other,  was  the  effective 
mover  in  instituting  the  diplomatic  mission  of  Mr.  Bur- 
lingame. 

They  talked  over  the  various  questions  in  regard  to 
China's  action  and  found  they  were  quite  in  accord  in 


The  Portrait  Gallery  381 

believing  that  the  time  had  arrived  for  China  to  adopt  a 
more  just  and  liberal  policy  in  her  governmental  affairs. 
He  asked  my  father  for  suggestions,  and,  when  made,  said 
they  were  in  harmony  with  his  own  sentiments.  He 
spoke  somewhat  sadly  and  regretfully  as  to  the  slow  pro- 
gress he  had  made  in  inducing  his  fellow-countrymen  and 
governmental  associates  to  share  in  his  ideas  of  a  more 
enlightened  policy. 

He  said:  "I  have  attempted  to  procure  the  establish- 
ment of  an  Imperial  college,  in  which  modern  sciences  and 
languages  shall  be  taught.  For  a  while,  I  thought  I  should 
succeed.  But  the  effort  has  failed,  and  has  brought  me 
under  deep  reproach  and  general  suspicion." 

My  father  replied:  "This  ought  not  to  discourage  you. 
Every  wise  minister  at  some  time  falls  under  temporary 
reproach  and  unjust  suspicion.  Public  opinion  in  every 
country  is  a  capricious  sea.  Whoever  attempts  to  navi- 
gate it,  is  liable  to  be  tossed  about  by  storms." 

Wan  Siang  said:  "  It  is,  as  you  say,  indeed  unavoidable. 
A  statesman  stands  on  a  hill.  He  looks  farther,  in  all 
directions,  than  the  people,  who  are  standing  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  can  see.  When  he  points  out  what  course  they 
ought  to  take,  they  are  suspicious  that  he  is  misdirecting 
them.  They  cry  'Pull  him  down!'  When  they  have  at 
last  gained  the  summit  from  which  he  points  the  way,  they 
then  correct  their  misjudgment.  But  this,  although  it 
may  be  sufficient — for  them — comes  too  late  for  the 
statesman. " 

The  Portrait  Gallery.  Grey,  bent,  and  weary,  my  father 
was  standing  one  evening  in  the  parlour  of  his  Washington 
home,  looking  at  the  portraits  which  thickly  overspread 
its  walls. 

During  eight  years,  now  drawing  to  a  close,  gradual 
additions  had  increased  the  number  until  they  now  formed 


382  The  Portrait  Gallery 

"a  diplomatic  gallery"  of  the  world's  sovereigns  and 
ministers. 

He  pointed  out  to  his  guests  those  who  during  that  time 
had  passed  from  office  or  from  earth.  Leopold  of  Belgium 
had  been  succeeded  by  his  son ;  Frederick  of  Denmark  by 
Christian  IX.;  Isabella  Segunda  of  Spain,  fat  and  fair, 
had  been  dethroned  and  exiled ;  Pius  IX.  of  Rome,  gentle 
old  man,  was  shorn  of  temporal  power;  Abdul  Medjid  of 
Turkey,  slender  and  dark,  had  been  assassinated  and 
followed  by  Abdul  Aziz ;  Hien  Fung  of  China  had  yielded 
the  Celestial  Throne  to  Tung  Chi,  a  baby ;  the  Tycoon  of 
Japan,  with  his  high  headdress,  emblematic  of  supreme 
power,  had  been  deposed  and  banished  by  the  Mikado; 
Maximilian  of  Austria  was  executed  in  sight  of  his  army,  at 
Queretaro ;  Carlotta  his  empress  was  a  wanderer  and  insane. 

Then  the  array  of  South  American  Presidents — their 
brief  tenure  ended  by  an  election,  or  shortened  by  war  and 
violence — Mosquera  deposed,  Cabral  overthrown,  Prado 
assassinated,  Geffrard  banished,  and  so  on  through  a  long 
list. 

Premiers  and  ministers  of  foreign  affairs  had  found  their 
terms  even  more  brief:  Earl  Russell,  Thouvenel,  Drouyn 
de  1'Huys,  Cavour,  Rogier,  Zuylen  D'  Avila,  Manderstrom, 
Calderon,  Van  Schleinitz,  and  their  contemporaries  in 
office  had  all  experienced  the  mutations  of  politics  and 
of  time.  Gortschakoff's  placid  face  beamed  from  its 
frame,  as  a  reminder  that  he  alone  of  all  the  Ministers  of 
Foreign  Affairs  with  whom  my  father  had  held  intercourse 
in  1 86 1  was  now  remaining  in  office  in  1869.  And  all  this 
had  happened  in  the  brief  period  of  eight  years ! 

"  It  is  a  sermon  on  the  instability  of  human  greatness, " 
remarked  one  of  the  guests. 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  my  father  with  a  smile;  "I  can  only 
hope  that  they  all  enjoyed  the  prospect  of  getting  out  of 
office  as  much  as  I  do." 


The  "  Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska          383 

1869. 

The  "  Great  Tyee  "  in  Alaska.  Two  years  after  the 
cession  of  Russian  America,  my  father,  having  retired  from 
office,  was  travelling  in  the  west. 

At  San  Francisco,  his  friends  made  up  a  party  to  accom- 
pany him,  to  see  the  territory  he  had  purchased  for  the 
nation.  The  steamship  Active  was  placed  at  their  dis- 
posal by  Ben  Holliday. 

They  cruised  along  the  California  and  Oregon  coasts, 
explored  Puget  Sound,  with  its  great  forests,  busy  mills, 
and  growing  villages,  were  received  with  courteous  hos- 
pitalities at  Victoria,  and  then  passed  on  through  the 
magnificent  scenery  of  the  Inland  Passage. 

All  there  was  beautiful,  silent,  and  lonely.  Not  a  vessel 
nor  a  human  habitation  in  sight.  Only  an  occasional 
canoe  of  an  Indian  fisherman.  Cautiously  proceeding 
through  waters  as  yet  but  imperfectly  known,  we  arrived 
at  last  at  Sitka. 

The  little  town  had  been  built  by  the  Russians,  of 
squared  hewn  timbers, — it  being  easier,  as  a  townsman 
remarked,  "to  square  a  log  than  to  get  a  board. "  A  high 
stockade  separated  it  from  the  Indian  huts  and  lodges  just 
outside.  A  medley  of  population  walked  its  streets: 
Russians  in  their  national  dress,  United  States  soldiers 
in  their  blue  uniforms,  Indians  in  blankets  and  feathers, 
traders  and  travellers  in  the  garb  of  San  Francisco. 

Several  days  were  devoted  to  points  of  interest,  the 
historic  castle  and  church,  and  the  embryo  modern  enter- 
prises. Then,  a  week  later,  the  Active  weighed  anchor  and 
proceeded  northward  with  my  father  and  his  party,  this 
time  accompanied  by  General  Davis  and  his  staff.  Some 
of  the  friendly  Sitka  Indians  acted  as  pilots,  and  the 
destination  was  the  Chilkat  River,  the  headquarters  of 
the  formidable  tribe  recently  engaged  in  hostilities  with 
the  troops. 


384          The  "Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska 

They  had  expressed  a  desire  for  peace,  and  this  visit  of 
the  Active  would  give  an  opportunity  to  treat  with  them. 
Besides,  as  the  General  laughingly  told  the  ex-Secretary, 
he  looked  to  him  for  valuable  assistance  in  the  negotiations. 
The  General,  in  talking  with  the  Indians,  had  given  them 
news  that  a  scientific  expedition  sent  out  from  Washington 
to  observe  the  total  eclipse  of  the  sun  was  coming  among 
them;  and  also  that  the  "  Great  Tyee"  (or  chief),  who  had 
bought  the  whole  territory,  was  coming  to  make  it  a  visit. 

It  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  the  Indian  understanding 
of  the  fact  would  be  different  from  his  own.  But  he  soon 
found  that,  to  their  simple  minds,  it  meant  the  advent  of 
the  sovereign  owner  of  the  soil.  They  could  not  under- 
stand how  a  great  "Tyee"  could  buy  Alaska,  and  then 
not  own  it.  They  were  expecting  to  welcome  him  with 
great  respect,  and  to  receive  favours  at  his  hands. 

As  to  the  eclipse  story,  they  received  that  with  some 
incredulity,  but  thought  it  had  some  connection  with  the 
visit  of  the  "Great  Tyee." 

After  three  days  spent  in  traversing  the  various  straits, 
channels,  and  sounds,  the  steamer  anchored  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Chilkat  River. 

Communication  was  opened  with  the  Indians,  and  the 
next  day  came  messengers  from  the  Coast  Survey  party, 
inviting  the  "Great  Tyee"  and  his  friends  to  come  up 
and  visit  their  camp.  This  invitation  was  accompanied 
by  one  from  Klakautch,  the  Chilkat  chief,  who  sent  canoes 
to  aid  the  ship's  boats  in  bringing  the  guests. 

They  embarked,  and,  pulling  rapidly  up  the  river,  soon 
lost  sight  of  the  steamer,  as  she  came  cautiously  along 
behind  them,  "feeling  her  way  with  the  lead"  in  unknown 
waters. 

Arrived  at  their  destination,  they  were  welcomed  by  Mr. 
Davidson,  the  head  of  the  Coast  Survey  party,  and  the 
Chilkat  chief,  who  had  placed  one  of  his  great  lodges  at  the 


The  "Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska          385 

service  of  the  scientific  party,  and  the  other  at  that  of 
the  "Great  Tyee"  and  General  Davis. 

Each  of  these  royal  residences  was  a  substantial  struc- 
ture of  hewn  logs,  seventy  or  eighty  feet  long.  Its  en- 
trance was  guarded  by  a  score  of  Indian  dogs,  yelping  and 
howling  in  chorus.  Within,  the  house  had  no  partitions, 
but  formed  one  vast  room,  from  the  earth,  which  was  its 
floor,  to  the  roof,  with  an  opening  in  the  centre  to  let  out 
the  smoke.  Hanging  blankets  or  skins  shut  off  one  end 
for  sleeping  places,  or  depositing  of  valuables. 

Here  they  supped  on  fresh  fish  and  game,  cooked  at  the 
blazing  fire  in  the  centre  of  the  lodge,  and  passed  a  com- 
fortable night  with  semi-civilized,  semi-savage  surround- 
ings, wrapped  in  bear  skins  and  army  blankets. 

The  eclipse  was  to  occur  on  the  yth.  When  Mr.  David- 
son commenced  posting  his  assistants  at  different  stand- 
points,— one  armed  with  a  telescope,  another  with  a 
sextant,  another  with  a  camera,  another  with  a  chrono- 
meter, and  another  with  pencil  and  note  book,  all 
gazing  intently  at  the  sun,  and  pointing  their  mysteri- 
ous instruments  towards  it, — it  seemed  proof  positive  to 
the  uneducated  Indian  mind  that  they  were  a  sort  of  sharp- 
shooters, taking  aim  at  that  luminary. 

When,  at  the  time  announced,  the  first  faint  line  of 
obscuration  began  to  creep  over  the  disc  of  the  sun,  stolid- 
ity and  incredulity  gave  way  to  visible  anxiety,  and  the 
Indians  gathered  more  closely  round  the  little  circle  of 
observers.  When  these  were  shifting  the  instruments  and 
noting  their  observations,  and  Mr.  Davidson  was  passing 
rapidly  and  quietly  from  one  to  another,  giving  directions 
and  receiving  reports,  it  certainly  looked  as  if  the  "Boston 
men"  were  personally  conducting  the  exhibition. 

The  shadow  had  crept  about  half  way  over  the  face  of 
the  sun,  when  the  Chilkats  began  to  expostulate.  They 
said  they  were  convinced  of  the  "Boston  men's"  skill,  but 

35 


386  The  "  Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska 

they  had  seen  enough  now,  and  they  feared  bad  conse- 
quences if  the  thing  went  further.  But  the  observers  were 
too  busy  to  listen  o'r  explain. 

The  black  shadow  crept  steadily  on  and  on,  over  the  sun. 
The  weird,  unusual  light,  which  was  neither  day  nor  night, 
settled  down  over  river  and  forest.  Birds  and  insects  were 
hushed  and  sombre  silence  covered  the  scene.  On  board 
the  Active,  when  the  eclipse  became  total,  the  chickens  in 
the  coop  went  to  roost,  the  cow  laid  down  contentedly 
for  the  night,  and  some  of  the  Sitka  Indians,  who  had  been 
taught  by  the  Russians,  fell  to  their  knees  and  fervently 
repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer  in  Greek. 

There  were  unmistakable  signs  and  exclamations  of  re- 
lief when  the  shadow  began  to  pass  away.  The  Indians 
were  convinced  that  the  "Boston  men"  were  taking  it  off 
as  skilfully  and  methodically  as  they  had  put  it  on.  The 
Coast  Survey  party  were  highly  pleased  with  the  suc- 
cessful termination  of  their  enterprise,  and  general  satis- 
faction came  back  with  the  sunshine. 

Soon  after,  the  Chilkat  chief  invited  his  guests  to  come 
to  his  lodge,  to  meet  the  principal  people  of  his  tribe.  The 
assemblage  numbered  two  or  three  hundred.  The  chiefs 
of  greater  and  less  degree,  the  warriors,  the  medicine  men, 
and  the  women  stood  in  grave,  passive  rows  all  round  the 
sides  of  the  building, — the  chief  Klakautch  and  his  guests 
being  seated  in  the  middle. 

The  latter  had  not  quite  understood  whether  this 
gathering  was  for  a  formal  and  ceremonious  greeting  or 
for  some  other  purpose.  They  were  not  left  long  in 
doubt. 

As  soon  as  all  had  assembled,  Klakautch  rose  and  ut- 
tered a  few  emphatic  sentences,  which  the  interpreter 
proceeded  to  translate: 

"Some  time  ago,  the  Kalosh  (or  Sitka  Indians)  killed 
three  of  the  Chilkats.  Now  the  Great  Tyee  has  come. 


The  "Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska          387 

We  have  gathered  to  ask  him,  what  he  is  going  to  do 
about  it?" 

So  sudden  and  direct  a  demand  seemed  to  require  a 
categorical  answer,  and  Seward  had  never  even  heard  of 
the  case.  He  asked, 

"When  did  this  killing  take  place?" 

Question  and  answer  were  translated  by  the  interpreter. 
The  date  was  given  in  Indian  fashion,  reckoning  by  "  suns  " 
and  "moons."  It  appeared  that  it  happened  nine  or  ten 
years  before. 

"Then  it  happened,"  Seward  said,  "when  this  country 
belonged  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  long  before  it  became 
the  property  of  the  United  States.  He  was  a  great  sover- 
eign, who  listened  to  the  Indians,  and  treated  them  with 
kindness.  This  demand  should  have  been  made  to  him. " 

Evidently  this  reply  was  not  at  all  satisfactory.  The 
chiefs  consulted  together,  and  presently  their  answer  came 
back,  through  the  interpreter. 

"We  did  appeal  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  but  he  gave 
us  no  redress.  Perhaps  he  was  too  poor.  We  know  that 
he  was  poor,  because  he  had  to  sell  his  land  to  the  '  Great 
Tyee.'  But  now  the  '  Great  Tyee '  is  here  in  his  stead. 
And  we  want  to  know  what  he  is  going  to  do  about  it?  " 

Seward  conferred  with  General  Davis,  and  then  asked: 

"How  many  men  were  murdered?" 

"Three,"  was  the  response. 

"And  what  sort  of  redress  do  you  yourselves  desire?" 

There  was  a  visible  brightening  up  in  the  faces  of  the 
Indians  at  this.  They  consulted  as  before,  and  presently 
came  their  reply : 

"A  life  for  a  life  is  the  Indian  law,  and  always  has  been. 
But  as  these  three  Chilkats  were  of  the  chief's  family,  we 
reckon  each  of  their  lives  to  be  equal  to  the  lives  of  three 
common  Indians.  What  we  want,  then,  is  the  Great 
Tyee's  permission  to  send  our  warriors  down  to  kill  nine 


388          The  "Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska 

of  the  Kalosh  (Sitkas)  in  order  to  avenge  the  death  of  the 
Chilkats." 

To  this,  Seward  replied  with  promptness,  that  it  was  not 
to  be  thought  of.  No  killing  would  be  allowed.  He  then 
asked, 

"Is  there  any  other  form  of  reparation  that  you  think 
might  be  made?" 

The  faces  of  the  Indians  beamed  with  satisfaction,  when 
this  was  translated  to  them.  It  began  to  look  like 
business.  They  consulted  as  usual,  and  answered : 

"We  know  that  the  'Boston  men'  are  averse  to  any  kill- 
ing except  by  their  own  soldiers.  So  we  have  sometimes 
consented  to  take  pay  in  blankets.  We  think  the  life  of 
each  Indian  is  worth  about  four  blankets.  Nine  times  four 
blankets, — if  the  'Great  Tyee 'chooses  to  give  them  to  us, 
would  be  full  redress,  and  make  our  hearts  glad;  and  we 
should  then  regard  the  Sitkas  as  our  friends  and  brothers. " 

"Well,  General,"  said  Seward,  "there  you  have  the 
conclusion  of  the  case.  I  think  you  can  afford  to  give 
thirty-six  blankets,  to  make  peace  between  the  tribes. 
Shall  I  tell  them  you  will  send  them  up?" 

The  General  was  very  well  pleased,  as  this  would  end 
the  last  of  the  Indian  disputes,  and  establish  peace 
throughout  the  territory.  He  thought  it  advisable,  how- 
ever, to  give  the  adjustment  greater  dignity  and  effect, 
by  requiring  the  Chilkats  to  appoint  commissioners  to 
proceed  to  Sitka,  and  there  receive  the  blankets,  and  at  the 
same  time  exchange  tokens  of  amity  with  the  Sitkas. 

This  arrangement  proved  highly  satisfactory  all  round. 
The  Chilkats,  who  hitherto  could  not  venture  into  the 
region  occupied  by  their  enemies,  were  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  visit  Sitka,  see  its  wonders,  and  make  friends 
with  its  Indians. 

So  the  meeting  broke  up  with  mutual  congratulations. 
The  climax  was  added  to  the  general  rejoicing,  when  the 


The  "  Great  Tyee"  in  Alaska          389 

Chilkat  chiefs  were  invited  to  row  down  to  the  Active, 
and  dine  there  with  the  General  and  the  "Great  Tyee. " 

Toward  evening  they  arrived,  in  their  brightly  coloured 
and  gaily  decorated  canoes. 

On  board  the  ship,  the  stewards  and  cook  had  been 
busily  at  work,  to  meet  the  responsibilities  imposed  on 
them.  Soon  a  banquet  was  spread,  bewildering  in  its 
variety,  considering  the  limited  resources  of  the  ship's 
larder,  and  lavish  in  its  quantity,  since  all  who  were  to 
partake  of  it  were  blessed  with  good  appetites. 

The  cabin  was  too  small  to  accommodate  the  whole 
company;  but  it  was  entirely  in  accordance  with  Indian 
usage  that  the  six  chiefs  should  sit  in  state  at  the  cabin 
table,  while  their  wives  and  attendant  warriors  gathered 
on  deck  round  the  open  skylight,  through  which  the  viands 
were  passed  out  to  them,  while  they  had  full  view  of  the 
proceedings  below. 

On  deck  there  was  merriment  with  the  feasting.  In  the 
cabin  all  was  grave  and  decorous,  with  little  conversation 
until  the  principal  courses  had  been  disposed  of.  After 
the  exchange  of  various  information  about  the  territory 
and  government,  Seward  inquired  if  there  was  anything 
further  that  the  chiefs  would  like  to  ask? 

They  consulted  according  to  their  wont,  and  presently 
answered  through  their  interpreter,  that  they  would  like 
to  have  the  "  Great  Tyee"  tell  them  about  the  eclipse. 

Seward  accordingly  proceeded  to  explain  the  phe- 
nomenon, in  the  simplest  language  possible,  using  as  il- 
lustrations the  cabin  lamp  to  represent  the  sun,  and  an 
orange  and  an  apple  to  represent  earth  and  moon.  When 
he  had  finished,  he  inquired  if  the  chiefs  had  understood 
his  explanation? 

After  conference  as  before,  the  reply  came  back : 

"The  chiefs  have  understood  much  though  not  all  the 
'  Great  T  yee '  has  told  them.  They  understand  him  as 


39°  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

saying  that  the  eclipse  was  produced  by  the  Great  Spirit 
and  not  by  men.  Since  he  says  so,  they  will  believe  it. 
They  have  noticed,  however,  that  the  Great  Spirit  gener- 
ally does  whatever  the  'Boston  men'  want  him  to." 

With  this  shrewd  comment  on  ethics,  astronomy,  and 
human  nature,  the  feast  came  to  an  end. 

1869. 

The  Guest  of  a  Nation.  Regarding  him  as  the  chief 
defender  of  the  Mexicans  in  their  long  struggle  with  the 
European  Powers,  the  Mexican  Government  had  cordially 
invited  my  father  to  visit  their  country,  see  the  people 
whom  he  had  befriended,  and  accept  their  hospitalities. 
Now  that  he  was  free  from  official  cares  and  was  travelling 
so  near  their  frontiers  the  invitation  was  renewed. 

On  the  3Oth  of  September,  the  Golden  City  was  steaming 
out  through  the  Golden  Gate.  My  father  and  his  party 
were  on  board.  On  the  voyage  down  the  coast,  it  was  a 
daily  surprise  to  find  how  the  usual  discomforts  of  sea 
travel  are  mitigated  on  the  tranquil  Pacific.  The  great 
steamer  moved  on  even  keel,  over  waters  hardly  ruffled, 
and  through  continual  sunshine.  Her  spacious  cabins 
and  airy  staterooms  rose  in  successive  tiers,  and  were 
"steady  as  a  church."  Her  decks  presented  an  aspect 
like  that  of  a  summer  hotel.  Under  the  broad  awnings 
were  groups  of  gentlemen  smoking,  children  playing,  and 
ladies  chatting,  reading,  and  embroidering.  There  was 
no  noise  or  hurry.  Chinese  sailors,  with  placid  faces, 
moved  quietly  about,  while  the  officers  pacing  the  deck 
and  glancing  around  the  horizon  seemed  to  find  nothing  to 
order,  and  nothing  to  alter. 

Cruising  along  the  Coast  of  Lower  California  for  a  couple 
of  days,  and  approaching  the  shores  of  Jalisco,  the  voyage 
was  without  incident  except  the  meeting  and  exchange  of 
news  with  the  steamer  Montana.  Then,  crossing  the  gulf 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  391 

and  approaching  the  shore,  they  were  reminded  that  they 
had  passed  out  of  a  temperate  climate  into  a  tropical  one, 
and  out  of  a  dry  season  into  a  wet  one.  A  strong  warm 
rain  was  pouring  down,  and  it  accompanied  them  into  the 
harbour  of  Manzanillo,  where  they  were  to  debark  and 
enter  Mexico. 

Landing  at  Manzanillo  at  sunrise,  they  were  received 
and  welcomed  by  Seniors  Luis  Rendon,  and  Jacinto  Cafiedo 
on  behalf  of  the  Mexican  Government,  and  by  Governor 
Cueva  of  the  State  of  Colima.  Citizens  had  come  down 
from  Colima  to  join  in  the  greeting ;  among  them  some  of 
the  merchants  and  Dr.  Morrill,  the  United  States  Consul. 

Two  days  of  driving  rain  kept  them  at  Manzanillo,  but 
they  were  comfortably  lodged  and  hospitably  cared  for. 
Meanwhile  a  telegraphic  dispatch  came  from  President 
Juarez  and  his  Cabinet  welcoming  my  father  to  the  country 
and  wishing  him  a  pleasant  journey  to  the  capital. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  the  sky  cleared.  Under 
the  direction  of  the  Mexican  officers,  five  large  boats  carry- 
ing the  national  colours  were  in  readiness  to  take  the  party 
and  their  baggage  up  Lake  Cayutlan. 

The  landscape  was  picturesque  and  tropical,  the  lake 
smooth  and  glassy,  the  shores  covered  with  dense  growths 
of  trees,  among  which  could  be  seen  the  palm,  the  cypress, 
and  the  guayava.  Here  and  there  was  an  alligator  bask- 
ing in  the  sun  or  a  flamingo  wading  in  the  marsh,  while 
flocks  of  parrots  flew  screaming  overhead. 

Midway  on  the  trip  a  pause  was  made  for  breakfast,  in 
the  friendly  shade  of  a  thicket. 

Arriving  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  stages  and  mules  were 
found  waiting.  The  afternoon  was  spent  in  a  ride  over 
muddy  roads  and  swollen  streams  through  luxuriant 
tropical  vegetation.  Another  pause  for  dinner  with  Don 
Ignacio  Largos,  whose  house,  built  of  cane,  allowed  free 
circulation  of  air  in  every  direction.  Evening  brought 


392  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

the  party  to  the  great  hacienda  of  Don  Juan  Firmin 
Huarte. 

Through  the  open  doorway  came  a  blaze  of  light  and  a 
swarm  of  attendants.  Then  followed  a  hearty  and  hospit- 
able welcome  from  the  owner  of  La  Calera,  a  native  of 
Old  Spain,  genial,  polished,  and  enterprising. 

Here  Sunday  was  passed.  Then  the  journey  was  re- 
sumed. This  time  it  was  to  be  only  from  the  country  to 
the  city  home  of  Don  Juan,  but  this  involved  a  climb  over 
mountains,  chasms,  and  torrents.  Rising  gradually  from 
the  coast  the  road  wound  through  successive  gorges.  Just 
at  nightfall,  the  travellers  looking  back  had  their  last 
glimpse  of  the  Pacific. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  they  reached  the  silent 
deserted  streets  of  the  ancient  Spanish-looking  town  of 
Colima.  The  watchman  was  crying  "Dos  horas  y  todo 
bueno"  when  they  knocked  at  the  massive  gate  and  were 
ushered  into  the  spacious  court  of  Serior  Huarte's  home. 

Life  in  Colima  at  Sefior  Huarte's  was  full  of  contrast  to 
the  scenes  left  behind  in  the  United  States. 

One  seemed  to  have  stepped  not  only  into  another  clime, 
but  into  another  century.  Within  doors,  the  Moorish 
arches,  pillars,  and  frescoes,  the  glazed  tile  floors,  the  grand 
salon  and  stairway  decked  with  masses  of  bright  flowers 
and  glossy  foliage,  were  suggestive  of  Seville  or  Granada. 

Looking  out  from  the  carved  stone  balconies,  or  through 
the  iron-latticed  windows,  one  saw  strongly  built  houses 
in  mediaeval  style,  quaint  little  shops,  ruins  of  church  and 
palace,  plazas  with  stone  seats  and  fountains,  and  passers- 
by,  peasants,  priests,  soldiers,  and  women,  in  costumes  gay 
or  sombre,  such  as  were  worn  two  hundred  years  ago.  At 
every  corner  a  group  such  as  Murillo  loved  to  paint.  Now 
and  then  a  well  mounted  cavalier,  glittering  with  arms 
and  ornaments ;  or  a  lady  with  her  duenna,  whose  black 
dress,  lace  veil,  and  prayer-book  showed  her  to  be  on  the 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  393 

way  to  mass.  Heavy  carts  and  patient  little  donkeys 
plodded  along  with  marketing  or  merchandise.  No  rail- 
way whistle,  no  telegraph  poles,  no  gas-lamps,  no  carriages, 
no  boy  with  the  morning  papers. 

Three  days  were  passed  in  Colima.  There  were  dinners 
and  festivities  at  the  mansion,  and  a  christening  at  the 
parish  church,  around  whose  doorway  stood  a  hundred 
children  eagerly  crying  "Padrino,  mi  medio!"  in  accord- 
ance with  the  old  superstition  that  a  sixpence  from  the 
hand  of  a  new  godfather  is  sure  to  bring  good  luck. 

But  the  crowning  event  at  Colima  was  a  ball  and  ban- 
quet at  the  palace,  in  honour  of  Senor  Seward's  visit.  Ball- 
room, corridor,  galleries,  and  arches  were  brilliant  with 
tropical  plants  and  Oriental  illuminations.  Green,  red, 
and  white,  the  national  colours,  were  everywhere.  The 
flags  of  the  United  States  and  Mexico  hung  side  by  side. 
A  portrait  of  Juarez  at  one  end  of  the  hall,  and  of  Seward 
at  the  other,  were  wreathed  with  flags  and  laurel. 

Among  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  there  was  every  type 
of  the  blended  Aztec  and  Spanish  races,  the  Castilian 
predominating.  Quadrilles  and  waltzes  were  followed 
by  the  favourite  national  danza,  whose  music  has  a 
measured  cadence  and  soft  plaintive  melody  suited  to  a 
tropical  clime. 

At  the  banquet,  Governor  Cueva  addressed  "the  emi- 
nent statesman  who  presented  a  barrier  to  the  irrup- 
tion of  those  who  sought  to  sow  in  our  soil  the  obnoxious 
seeds  of  the  old  continent."  He  closed  by  saying: 

"I  salute  you  in  the  name  of  the  Mexican  people,  and 
offer  you  its  friendship  as  sincerely  as  you  have  been  a 
true  and  sincere  friend  to  the  government  and  people  of 
this  nation  who  applaud  and  bless  you." 

Seward  made  due  acknowledgment.  In  his  reply  he 
said  that  one  additional  principle  remained  to  be  adopted 
to  secure  the  success  of  the  Republican  system :  it  was  that 


394  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

"the  several  American  Republics,  while  abstaining  from 
intervention  with  each  other,  shall  become  more  than  ever 
heretofore  political  friends." 

A  day  or  two  were  spent  in  visiting  the  cotton  mills,  and 
the  gardens  filled  with  palms,  bananas,  cocoanuts,  coffee, 
orange,  and  lemon  trees. 

On  the  morning  of  departure  the  escort  sent  down  by 
the  government  of  the  State  had  arrived,  and  were  drawn 
up  in  line  at  the  gate.  They  were  a  fine-looking  body  of 
one  hundred  cavalrymen,  well  mounted  and  armed. 

As  the  journey  for  the  next  two  days  would  be  through 
the  barrancas,  which  are  impassable  for  carriages, 
handsome  Spanish  horses  and  sure-footed  mules  were 
brought,  equipped  with  the  comfortable  Mexican  saddles, 
for  the  use  of  each  of  the  party.  Trunks,  baggage,  bed- 
ding, and  supplies  were  strapped  on  the  backs  of  eighteen 
pack  mules,  under  the  guidance  of  a  muleteer.  Sefior 
Huarte,  whose  thoughtful  care  for  his  guest  extended  to 
every  detail,  had  provided  a  palanquin  for  Seward's  use, 
in  case  he  should  prefer  it.  Several  of  the  gentlemen 
from  Colima  accompanied  him  through  the  barrancas  to 
the  cities  beyond.  Altogether  the  cavalcade  was  about 
two  hundred  in  number.  Nothing  could  be  more  pic- 
turesque than  its  winding  progress,  up  and  down,  through 
the  passes  of  the  Sierra  Madre — the  soldiers  with  gay 
uniforms,  streaming  pennons,  and  flashing  arms,  the  cava- 
liers with  broad  sombreros  and  bright  red  sashes,  belted, 
and  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  mounted  on  prancing  steeds, 
the  ladies,  on  easy  pacing  palfreys,  whose  trappings  were 
ornamented  with  silver,  and  the  long  train  of  laden  mules, 
climbing  the  steep  acclivities  in  obedience  to  the  mule- 
teer's whistle.  Still  more  like  a  mediaeval  scene  it  looked 
when  passers-by  from  the  opposite  direction,  travellers 
similarly  mounted,  trains  of  mules  with  merchandise, 
peasants  and  soldiers,  priests  and  nuns,  would  greet  them 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  395 

with  courteous  salutation  or  blessing,  "Yaya  con  Dios, 
Caballero, "  "Dios  guarde  usted. " 

The  wild  landscape,  the  ancient-looking  roadway,  the 
grey  walls  and  battlements  of  the  distant  haciendas,  peer- 
ing out  through  the  glossy  green  foliage,  all  seemed  ap- 
propriate accessories.  When,  at  noon  or  nightfall,  the 
bugler,  at  some  heavily-barred,  stone-turreted  gateway, 
sounded  a  parley,  and  asked  leave  to  enter,  it  was  like  a 
chapter  out  of  Scott's  novels,  or  a  page  from  the  adventure 
of  Don  Quixote  de  la  Mancha. 

The  barrancas  are  huge  valleys  or  gorges,  formed  by 
the  action  of  mountain  torrents.  Some  of  them  are  five 
hundred  feet  deep,  others  one  thousand  or  one  thousand 
five  hundred.  Up  and  down  their  steep  precipitous  sides 
runs  the  zigzag  mule  path,  partially  paved,  but  needing 
constant  repair.  A  dense  growth  of  trees  and  vines  clings 
to  the  slope,  where  it  can  find  a  foothold.  At  the  bottom 
of  the  valley,  a  stone  bridge  spans  the  little  stream,  which 
in  the  rainy  season  becomes  a  roaring  flood,  making  havoc 
and  devastation.  One  of  the  Californians  in  the  party 
likened  them  to  "minor  Yosemites, "  and  found  in  the 
great  "Barranca  de  Beltran"  a  counterpart  of  Church's 
Heart  of  the  Andes. 

A  very  considerable  traffic  goes  through  these  mountain 
roads.  The  travellers  met  many  trains  of  one  or  two  hun- 
dred mules,  and  estimated  that,  in  a  day,  they  saw  two 
thousand.  They  carry  up  from  the  tierra  caliente  sugar, 
rice,  and  tropical  fruits,  and  bring  down  from  the  temper- 
ate region  above,  earthenware,  soap,  and  other  manu- 
factured articles. 

At  Tonila,  the  travellers  dined  with  the  venerable 
Governor  Vega.  At  night  they  were  to  sleep  at  the  great 
hacienda  of  San  Marcos,  at  the  foot  of  the  volcano  of 
Colima,  over  whose  crater  hung  a  sluggish  cloud  of  smoke 
by  day — a  dull  red  glow  by  night.  It  was  after  dark  when 


396  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

they  arrived  there.  The  lighted  torches  borne  by  the 
soldiers,  as  they  came  up  the  mountain  defile,  were  met  by 
a  similar  procession  from  the  hacienda,  making  a  scene 
of  wild  and  weird  beauty.  It  is  commonly  supposed  that 
the  Castilian  phrase,  Esta  casa  es  a  la  disposition  de 
usted,  is  but  a  hospitable  flourish.  But  at  San  Marcos, 
and,  indeed,  everywhere  that  he  went,  Seward  found  it 
to  be,  not  a  mere  compliment,  but  an  actual  truth.  The 
owner  of  the  mansion  literally  gave  his  house,  with  its 
servants,  furniture,  and  equipage,  to  his  guests,  for  them 
to  live  in,  and  do  what  they  pleased  with,  so  long  as  they 
chose  to  stay.  At  every  city  he  visited  in  Mexico,  Seward 
found  "his  own  house"  ready  and  waiting  for  him. 

The  last  barranca,  that  of  Atenquiqui,  was  passed  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  I5th.  A  rest  of  an  hour  or  two,  in  a  cane 
hut  by  the  wayside,  was  taken,  preparatory  to  entering 
the  comfortable  Concord  stage-coach,  drawn  by  six  mules, 
in  which  the  rest  of  the  journey  was  to  be  made.  In  the 
evening,  as  they  approached  the  town  of  Zapotlan,  they 
found  it  brilliantly  illuminated  from  one  end  to  the  other, 
in  honour  of  the  festival  of  San  Jose.  Here  was  another 
hospitable  reception;  and  then  a  leave-taking  of  the 
friends  who  had  accompanied  them  from  Colima,  except 
Senor  Cafiedo,  who  had  charge  of  the  party  as  far  as 
Guadalajara. 

In  the  morning  a  stroll  through  the  plaza  and  streets, 
a  look  at  church,  market,  fountains,  and  convent  ruins, 
substantial  residences  and  pretty  gardens. 

Then  on  the  road  again,  through  a  landscape  showing 
the  different  altitude  and  climate  now  attained — the  palm 
and  sugar  cane  having  given  place  to  the  maguey,  and  the 
mesquite  to  corn  fields  and  orchards.  Everywhere,  lofty 
mountain  ranges  bounded  the  prospect ;  while  near  at  hand 
were  the  cane  huts,  with  cactus  hedges,  the  fields  of  corn 
and  beans  and  barley,  with  here  and  there  the  tree-cotton, 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  397 

the  castor  bean,  and  the  coffee  tree.  Long  stretches  of 
uninhabited,  uncultivated  plains  were  covered  with  tall 
grass,  or  with  a  profusion  of  wild  flowers — among  which 
the  travellers  recognized  many  that,  at  the  North,  are 
carefully  cultivated  in  garden  or  greenhouse.  Calla  lilies 
were  growing  in  the  ditches  at  the  roadside.  Zinneas, 
verbenas,  and  marigolds  were  weeds  in  the  fields.  Tall 
pink  and  spotted  lilies,  and  gay  striped  convolvulus 
appeared  among  the  grass  here,  as  buttercups  and  daisies 
do  at  the  North. 

Only  one  ominous  feature  showed  itself  in  the  smiling 
landscape.  Rude  black  wooden  crosses,  surrounded  by 
piles  of  stones,  appeared  at  frequent  intervals;  each  mark- 
ing the  spot  where  some  victim  had  met  a  bloody  death. 

The  shores  of  Lake  Chapala  offered  a  beautiful  view. 
It  was  like  Lake  George  or  Seneca,  but  without  the  houses 
and  without  the  boats.  In  lieu  of  other  inhabitants,  there 
were  flocks  of  cranes,  plover,  ducks,  and  other  water-fowl, 
of  varied  and  brilliant  plumage. 

Everywhere,  the  houses  of  brick  and  stone  and  stucco 
were  clustered  together  in  villages,  for  mutual  protection. 
Each  village  had  its  church,  its  plaza  and  fountain,  its 
dwellings  of  massive  masonry,  with  flat  roofs,  broad  win- 
dows, airy  balconies,  and  paved  court-yards,  as  if  they 
had  been  transplanted  but  yesterday  from  Old  Spain. 
Three-fourths  of  all  the  people  seemed  of  unmixed  Indian 
blood;  the  rest  resembled  their  Spanish  progenitors.  But 
the  word  "Indian"  in  Mexico  is  applied  to  a  race  widely 
different  from  the  savages  of  the  United  States.  In 
Mexico  they  are  civilized  and  Christian  people,  neat,  in- 
telligent, and  industrious,  kind-hearted  and  affectionate. 

The  labourers  in  town  and  country  would  be  met  on  the 
road,  contentedly  trudging  to  market,  with  long  wicker 
baskets  strapped  on  their  backs,  containing  their  scanty 
produce.  Many,  as  if  to  lose  no  time,  were  busy  knit- 


398  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

ting,  embroidering,  or  plaiting  straw,  as  they  walked 
along. 

On  each  day's  journey  Seward  was  greeted  with  new  and 
varied  forms  of  hospitality  and  kindness.  At  Sayula  he 
was  met  by  a  cavalcade  of  a  hundred  gentlemen,  accom- 
panied by  ladies  in  their  carriages.  He  was  escorted  into 
the  town  amid  the  ringing  of  church  bells  and  the  firing  of 
cannon.  There  was  a  banquet  with  speeches,  visits  to 
schools  that  would  compare  favourably  with  those  of 
New  England,  and  churches  that  eclipse  any  that  the 
Pilgrims  would  tolerate.  There  was  a  ball  in  the  evening, 
and  a  serenade  with  harp,  guitar,  and  violin.  At  Zacoalco 
there  was  a  similar  reception  and  welcome. 

At  Techaluta,  a  little  village  of  cane  huts,  a  band  of 
Indian  boys,  playing  the  national  anthem,  escorted  the 
carriage  through  the  single  street.  There  was  not  a  flag 
in  the  place;  but  the  poor  people  had  decorated  the  fronts 
of  their  houses  with  bright-coloured  blankets,  shawls,  and 
scarfs,  bits  of  gay  ribbon,  and  whatever  finery  they 
possessed.  Each  family  stood  in  their  doorway,  with  un- 
covered heads,  to  say  "God  bless  you,"  "Vaya  con  Dios, 
Serior,"  "Dios  guarde  usted,"  "Mil  gracias,  Sefior," — 
"Adios." 

As  the  carriage  passed  the  last  houses,  and  the  musicians 
ceased,  a  tall,  swarthy  Indian  stepped  forward,  threw  a 
roll  of  paper  into  the  carriage,  and,  with  a  profound  obeis- 
ance, withdrew.  Unrolling  and  reading  the  scroll,  Seward 
found  it  was  addressed  "To  the  great  Statesman  of  the 
great  Republic  of  the  North — Techaluta  is  poor,  but  she 
is  not  ungrateful!" 

At  Tepetitlan  they  arrived  after  dark.  But  the  town 
was  brilliant  with  bonfires,  torches,  and  fire  balls,  while 
the  air  was  filled  with  strains  of  music  from  unseen  instru- 
ments, and  the  merry  peals  of  chimes  from  all  the  churches. 
Everywhere  there  were  addresses  of  welcome,  long  or  short, 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  399 

but  all  marked  by  good  taste  and  deep  feeling.  Every- 
where, tables  were  loaded  with  the  fruits  and  dishes  of  the 
country,  of  every  variety,  from  the  national  frijoles  and 
tortillas,  to  the  most  elaborate  dukes  and  pasteles  that 
skilled  ingenuity  could  contrive. 

Cordially  as  he  had  been  invited  and  welcomed  by  the 
government  of  Mexico,  Seward  was  hardly  prepared  for 
the  warmth  and  depth  of  popular  feeling  which  he  every- 
where encountered.  Mexicans,  of  whatever  ancestry  or 
party,  are  intensely  patriotic ;  and  they  were  determined  to 
show  their  appreciation  of  one  who  had  stood  by  their 
country  in  its  hour  of  trial. 

Passing  Santa  Ana  Acatlan,  San  Augustin  and  Sant' 
Anita,  the  drivers  unharnessed  the  six  tired  little  mules 
and  put  before  the  coach  six  milk-white  horses,  with  re- 
splendent trappings,  for  the  entry  into  the  great  city  of 
Guadalajara,  whose  white  spires  and  towers  were  shining 
in  the  distance.  Three  miles  before  reaching  the  city, 
there  came  out  a  long  line  of  carriages  and  horsemen,  with 
the  Municipal  Council  and  State  officials,  to  welcome 
Seward  to  the  capital  of  the  State  of  Jalisco.  His  entry 
into  the  city  was  an  ovation.  The  streets  were  lined  with 
carriages;  the  sidewalks  crowded;  windows,  doors,  and 
housetops  occupied ;  the  ladies  waving  their  handkerchiefs ; 
the  men  shouting  Vivas!  and  hurrahs ;  and  the  whole  scene 
replete  with  excitement  and  enthusiasm. 

At  the  door  of  a  stately  house,  the  procession  paused. 
The  keys  were  presented  to  Seward ;  and  he  was  informed 
that  it  was  his  own.  It  was  thoroughly  appointed  and 
furnished;  the  table  was  spread  for  a  banquet;  and  there 
was  a  corps  of  trained  servants  at  command.  Drawing- 
room  and  dining-room  opened  upon  a  marble-paved  court- 
yard. As  the  tired  travellers  sat  under  its  spacious  arched 
and  frescoed  corridors,  by  the  mellow  light  of  shaded  lamps 
listening  to  the  plashing  of  fountains  and  the  tinkling  of 


400  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

guitars,  they  appreciated  the  satisfaction  of  Hassan 
Bedreddin,  when,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  he  suddenly 
woke  up  and  found  himself  Caliph. 

Seward's  first  act,  when  left  alone,  was  to  sit  down  and 
write  a  kindly  letter  of  acknowledgment  to  the  people  of 
Techaluta,  whose  welcome  touched  him  deeply. 

A  week  was  spent  in  Guadalajara,  driving  through  its 
spacious  avenues  and  well-built  streets,  and  on  its  beauti- 
ful Paseo;  looking  at  its  majestic  Cathedral  with  costly 
adornments,  and  its  scores  of  ancient  and  modern  churches; 
strolling  through  the  luxuriant  foliage  of  its  Alameda, 
and  the  profusion  of  fruits  and  flowers  in  its  markets; 
visiting  its  palaces  and  public  offices;  studying  its  prisons 
and  benevolent  institutions;  its  great  Hospital  of  San 
Miguel  de  Belan,  for  the  treatment  of  every  form  of  human 
ailment;  its  Hospicio,  where  hundreds  of  orphans  and 
foundlings  are  sheltered  and  trained  to  lives  of  usefulness. 
A  day  spent  in  visiting  the  public  schools  was  full  of  sur- 
prises. Some  of  the  buildings  were  the  old  convents,  and 
replete  with  memories  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries.  But  the  schools  themselves  exhibited  the 
highest  progress  of  the  nineteenth.  Sefior  Matute,  one 
of  the  chief  officers  of  the  municipal  government,  explained 
that  commissioners  had  been  sent  abroad  to  study  the 
schools  of  other  countries.  So  Guadalajara  had  adopted  a 
system  combining  the  best  features  found  in  Boston,  New 
York,  and  Philadelphia,  as  well  as  in  Paris,  Copenhagen, 
and  Stockholm.  Study  of  books  was  combined  with 
training  in  arts,  sciences,  and  trades.  In  the  recitation- 
rooms  the  children  showed  as  much  proficiency  as  in  the 
United  States.  In  other  rooms  were  four  hundred  boys, 
learning  blacksmithing,  carpentering,  weaving,  and  tailor- 
ing. In  the  needle-work  rooms  the  girls  were  sewing, 
knitting,  and  copying  oil-paintings  in  silk  embroidery. 
At  the  boys'  High  School  was  a  band  of  one  hundred 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  401 

musicians,  all  schoolboys,  who  had  earned  their  own 
instruments.  At  the  music  hall  of  the  girls'  High  School, 
the  pupils  were  giving  the  opera  of  Ernani.  Gymnasi- 
ums, art-galleries,  laboratories,  and  libraries  were  among 
the  adjuncts  of  the  schools. 

On  coming  out  from  their  inspection,  Seward  remarked, 
"Why  do  people  talk  of  a  'Protectorate'  for  a  country 
capable  of  such  things  as  these?" 

Citizens,  officials,  and  associations  vied  in  their  hospi- 
talities to  the  national  guest.  Preparations  were  making 
for  a  ball  to  be  given  in  his  honour  at  the  hall  of  the  State 
Congress.  The  Academy  of  Sciences  presented  him  with 
a  certificate  of  honourary  membership,  in  which  he  was 
styled  "Defender  of  the  Liberty  of  the  Americas."  He 
was  presented  also,  as  a  memento  of  his  visit,  with  the 
original  royal  proclamation  of  Charles  II.,  of  1676 — a 
parchment  yellow  with  age,  but  plainly  showing  the 
signature,  in  a  bold  round  hand,  of  Yo  el  Rey. 

One  evening  was  spent  at  a  representation  of  El  Vatte 
de  Andorra.  The  opera  house  was  a  spacious  and  hand- 
some edifice,  with  massive  walls,  holding  an  audience  of 
four  thousand,  and  having  five  tiers  of  boxes,  each  box 
having  its  own  distinct  entrance,  dressing,  and  refresh- 
ment-room. 

"Theatres  never  burn  down  in  this  country?"  asked 
one  of  the  visitors. 

"Never,"  was  the  reply  of  a  Mexican  gentleman,  "how 
could  they?" 

Another  gentleman  remarked  that  he  was  much  sur- 
prised, on  his  first  visit  to  the  United  States,  at  being  told 
not  to  throw  a  match  on  the  floor,  as  it  might  set  the  house 
on  fire.  "  Burn  a  house  with  a  match ! "  said  he ;  "  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing!" 

With  walls  of  thick  masonry,  tiled  floors  and  roofs,  with 
no  lath  or  plaster,  no  shingling  or  planking,  houses  in 
•6 


402  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

Mexican  cities  are  practically  fire-proof.  It  was  said 
that  the  little  old  hand-engines  were  all  that  was  ever 
needed;  and  that  there  was  not  an  insurance  company  in 
the  Republic,  till  the  French  invaders  introduced  the 
fashion. 

The  ball  brought  together  a  brilliant  and  fashionably- 
dressed  assemblage  of  all  political  parties.  The  fine  hall 
of  the  State  Congress  was  used  as  a  ball-room;  while  the 
tables  were  set  in  the  decorated  corridors  surrounding  the 
illuminated  patio — a  feature  of  Spanish  architecture 
admirably  adapted  for  entertainments.  Spanish  beauty 
and  Aztec  grace  were  exemplified  in  the  Sefioras  and 
Sefioritas;  and  in  Mexico,  even  men  dance  gracefully. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  Governor 
Cuervo,  at  the  supper-table,  announced  that  the  hour  had 
come  for  the  addresses  of  welcome.  Senors  Matute  and 
Jones  spoke  in  terms  of  enthusiastic  greeting. 

Seward,  in  his  [speech  of  acknowledgment,  alluded  to 
his  hope  for  the  North  American  States,  and  the  Spanish 
American  Republics,  in  the  creation  of  a  policy  of  mutual 
moral  alliance,  to  the  end  that  external  aggression  may  be 
prevented,  and  internal  peace,  law  and  order,  and  progress 
be  secured  throughout  the  whole  continent. 

Governor  Cuervo  responded  with  hearty  assent  to  that 
"  Great  Continental  American  policy, "  and  said  that,  as  a 
patriot,  he  should  devote  all  his  efforts  to  its  realization. 

One  of  the  subjects  under  discussion  by  the  municipal 
authorities,  at  this  period,  was  the  question  of  abolishing 
the  bull-fights.  The  custom  was  linked  with  so  many 
traditions  of  the  nation  and  the  race,  and  was  so  intrenched 
in  popular  favour,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  put  a  stop 
to  it.  Nevertheless,  progressive  and  public-spirited  men 
in  Guadalajara  were  urging  its  abandonment.  Of  course, . 
Seward  heartily  agreed  with  them.  However,  it  was  urged 
that  he  should  first  attend  a  funcion,  see  the  performance 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  403 

and  audience,  and  then  give  his  unbiased  judgment  for  or 
against  its  continuance.  The  great  amphitheatre,  packed 
with  thousands  of  the  people  of  Guadalajara,  of  every  age, 
rank,  and  station,  was  a  fine  spectacle.  Seward  had 
assigned  to  him  the  chair  of  honour.  The  gaily  dressed 
line  of  matadors,  picadors,  banderilleros,  and  chulos, 
marched  up  before  him,  to  make  their  opening  salute,  in 
accordance  with  the  custom,  centuries  old,  of  the  gladia- 
tors, who,  in  the  Coliseum,  used  to  say :  "Te,  Caesar,  mori- 
turi  salutamus!" 

But  bull-fights  and  their  audiences  have  been  so  often 
described  that  the  scene  needs  no  repetition  here.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  "five  valiant  bulls  were  fought, "  and  four  "done 
to  the  death";  and  that,  while  the  audience  enjoyed  it  as 
they  would  a  circus,  the  American  travellers  found  it 
bloody,  cruel,  and  only  less  brutal  than  the  prize-fights 
in  their  own  land.  Their  sympathies  were  less  moved 
than  they  expected  for  either  the  bull  or  his  assailants, 
since  both  seemed  to  court  the  blows  they  received.  But 
the  poor  horses,  blindfolded,  and  forced  into  a  combat  in 
which  they  had  no  interest,  exposed  to  all  the  danger  and 
having  none  of  the  escapes  or  triumphs,  were  the  real 
sufferers.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  learn  subsequently  that  the 
progressive  party  in  the  City  Council  carried  their  humane 
purpose  into  effect  by  a  majority  vote. 

At  Guadalajara,  Sefior  Jacinto  Cafiedo  took  his  leave. 
He  had  accompanied  the  party  from  Colima,  and  they 
regretted  to  lose  his  cheerful  companionship  and  guidance. 
He  now  returned  to  resume  his  official  duties  at  Colima. 
Don  Luis  G.  Bossero,  the  commissioner  appointed  by  the 
general  government,  had  arrived  and  took  charge  of  the 
travelling  arrangements.  Formerly  in  the  Diplomatic 
Corps  at  Washington,  he  spoke  English  fluently  and 
perfectly.  His  tact,  courtesy,  and  knowledge  of  affairs 
were  invaluable.  Under  his  care  the  eastward  trip  was 


404  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

resumed  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  the  26th,  in  a  coach 
sent  down  from  the  city  of  Mexico,  drawn  by  eight  mules 
and  escorted  by  a  large  detachment  of  cavalry. 

The  incidents  of  the  following  week  were  like  those  of  the 
preceding  ones — the  same  warm-hearted  hospitality  and 
enthusiastic  greetings  in  the  villages  and  cities  successively 
visited,  but  with  an  ever-changing  panorama  of  beautiful 
scenery,  and  ever-varying  objects  of  historic  and  poetic 
interest.  At  the  suburb  of  San  Pedro  they  parted  with  the 
Guadalajara  friends  who  had  come  out  so  far  to  bid  them 
good-bye.  At  Zapotlanejo  they  saw  the  fine  old  church, 
and  the  barricades  and  bullet-marks  of  the  recent  war. 
At  El  Puente  de  Calderon  they  saw  the  great  stone  bridge 
where  Padre  Hidalgo,  with  eighty  thousand  men,  struck 
the  blow  for  national  independence  in  1811.  At  Jalos 
they  found  a  quaint  old  city,  embowered  with  trees,  with 
a  magnificent  church  building.  At  Venta  de  Los  Pajaros 
they  spent  the  night  at  a  hacienda,  fortified  to  resist 
bandits  or  revolutionists,  and  provided  with  a  military 
force  of  several  hundred  strong,  mustered  and  organized 
by  Senor  Perez,  the  owner.  At  San  Juan  de  los  Lagos 
they  saw  the  Cathedral — one  of  the  finest  in  Mexico.  The 
townspeople  were  making  preparations  to  celebrate  the 
centennial  anniversary  of  its  consecration.  At  Lagos,  a 
city  of  twelve  thousand  people,  was  another  great  church, 
whose  specialty  was  the  possession  of  the  remains  of  a 
Saint,  brought  from  Rome  eighty  years  before.  The  road 
in  this  vicinity  passed  among  the  numerous  small  lakes, 
from  which  the  town  takes  its  name.  The  fields,  fenced 
in  with  the  tall  "  Organo"  cactus,  had  the  grains  and  fruits 
of  a  temperate  clime.  At  each  of  these  towns  there  was  a 
deputation  of  mounted  citizens  to  meet  Seward  at  the  gates. 
There  was  the  house  provided  for  his  reception  and  use. 
There  were  addresses  of  welcome,  serenades,  and  banquets. 

Like  greeting  awaited  him  at  Leon.     Here  was  the 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  405 

novelty  of  the  festival  of  Todos  Santos  (All  Saints),  the 
plaza  being  illuminated  and  surrounded  with  booths  for 
the  sale  of  fruits,  flowers,  and  the  curious  bon-bon  con- 
fections in  the  form  of  skulls,  angels,  devils,  birds,  and 
fishes,  which  are  deemed  appropriate  for  gifts  and  memen- 
toes of  the  day.  In  the  morning,  the  city,  seen  from  the 
upper  windows,  seemed  like  a  garden,  the  flat  roofs  of  the 
houses  in  all  directions  being  covered  with  a  profusion  of 
flowering  plants  in  full  bloom. 

At  Guanajuato  they  found  another  old  and  important 
city,  the  capital  of  a  state.  Resembling  Guadalajara  in 
architecture,  it  was  widely  different  in  site  and  surround- 
ings. Built  in  the  midst  of  mountains,  with  streets 
following  the  ascent  of  hills  or  the  curve  of  ravines,  some 
of  its  quaint  and  unexpected  turns  were  suggestive  of 
Quebec.  Massive  masonry  and  heavy  embankments 
everywhere  gave  it  a  solid,  substantial  look.  Its  hand- 
some residences  and  terraced  gardens  added  to  its  beauty 
and  attested  the  wealth  of  its  silver  mines,  which  are 
among  the  richest  in  Mexico. 

Seward  was  met  and  escorted  up  to  the  city  through 
the  canon  of  Marfil.  Received  and  cordially  welcomed 
by  Governor  Antillon  and  others  in  authority,  he  was 
shown  to  a  new  and  handsome  house  prepared  for  his 
occupancy,  was  presented  with  the  keys,  and  duly  in- 
stalled therein. 

A  week  was  spent  in  visiting  Guanajuato's  ancient 
Cathedral  and  numerous  churches,  its  elaborate  and 
substantial  water-works,  its  residences  and  terraces,  its 
fine  theatre  and  busy  mint,  its  historic  castle,  which 
Hidalgo  and  his  Mexican  followers  besieged  and  stormed 
in  1810,  and  which  the  Spaniards  recaptured  in  1811, 
hanging  the  heads  of  Hidalgo  and  his  three  associates  on 
its  four  corners.  There  they  remained  until  the  national 
independence  was  achieved  in  1823,  when  they  were  buried 


406  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

with  the  honours  due  to  martyrs  for  patriotism.  Now 
occupied  by  court -rooms  and  prisons,  the  edifice  looked 
new  enough  and  strong  enough  to  stand  another  siege. 

Among  the  friends  met  here  was  Mr.  Parkman,  who 
had  emigrated  in  his  youth  from  Cayuga  County;  and, 
after  various  adventures  in  the  mining  region,  had  come 
to  Guanajuato,  married  and  settled,  and  had  become  a 
prosperous  mine-owner.  One  of  his  daughters  accepted 
an  invitation  to  go  with  the  party  to  the  United  States 
for  a  visit,  and  subsequently  joined  them  at  the  city  of 
Mexico. 

Accompanied  by  Mr.  Parkman  and  others  of  the  owners 
and  superintendents  of  mines,  Seward  visited  the  shafts 
and  tunnels  of  some  of  the  principal  ones,  some  in 
bonanza,  and  some  in  borrasca;  was  shown  the  various 
processes  of  getting  out  the  ore  and  of  "beneficiating"  or 
extracting  the  silver  from  it.  One  of  these  mines,  the 
Valenciano,  discovered  by  the  Spaniards  shortly  after  the 
conquest,  was  said  to  have  yielded  $800,000,000,  and  when 
Humboldt  visited  it,  he  estimated  that  it  was  producing 
one  fifth  of  all  the  silver  in  the  world.  A  fine  sight  was  that 
at  "La  Serena,"  where  the  party,  standing  in  a  tunnel 
four  hundred  feet  below  the  surface,  looked  down  six 
hundred  feet  farther,  to  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  which 
was  illuminated  by  blazing  fire  balls  thrown  in  at  the  top 
and  rushing  down  like  fiery  comets. 

The  day  before  departure  there  was  a  distribution  of 
premiums  at  the  College,  followed  by  a  soiree  and  ball. 

Leaving  Guanajuato,  the  travellers  proceeded  along 
the  mountain  road ;  pausing  at  midday  at  Salamanca,  and 
spending  the  night  at  Celaya,  where,  for  the  first  time  in 
Mexico,  they  heard  the  sound  of  the  steam  whistle.  It 
came  from  a  woollen  factory  established  there.  Another 
of  the  modern  enterprises  there  was  an  artesian  well  four 
hundred  feet  deep,  supplying  the  city  with  pure  water 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  407 

thrown  out  in  great  jets,  and  having  a  temperature  of 
100  degrees. 

On  Wednesday  they  arrived  at  Queretaro,  and  were 
received  at  the  city  gate  by  a  deputation  of  state  and  city 
officials  and  citizens.  Addresses  of  welcome,  letters,  and 
visits  were  followed  by  a  drive  out  to  the  great  Rubio 
cotton  factories  standing  in  the  suburbs,  and  named  the 
"Hercules"  and  "La  Purissima. "  They  were  encircled 
by  a  high  wall,  and  guarded  by  a  uniformed  military  force 
maintained  by  the  proprietors. 

The  next  day  was  a  deeply  interesting  one.  It  was 
spent  in  visiting  the  historic  spots  connected  with  the 
final  defeat  and  fall  of  Maximilian,  and  listening  to  the 
descriptions  of  those  eventful  scenes  by  their  eye-witnesses. 
They  pointed  out  the  lines  of  fortification  and  siege,  the 
field  of  battle,  the  stronghold  of  the  old  convent  and 
church  of  La  Cruz,  where  the  imperial  forces  made  their 
last  desperate  stand;  the  streets  where  the  republicans 
under  Escobedo  made  successful  entrance,  the  spot  where 
Maximilian  was  captured  by  Corona,  the  old  monastery 
of  Los  Capuchinos  where  he  was  confined  with  Miramon 
and  Mejia,  the  theatre  where  the  court-martial  sat,  by 
which  they  were  tried  and  condemned  to  death,  and  finally 
the  "Cerro  de  las  Campanas, "  where  they  were  executed. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  as  Seward  ascended  this  hill. 
Standing  by  the  side  of  the  three  black  wooden  crosses, 
which  marked  the  spot  of  execution,  and  looking  off  toward 
the  distant  city,  whose  roofs  and  domes  were  fading  into 
evening  shadows,  one  could  realize  the  feeling  of  the  un- 
fortunate Archduke,  who  here  expiated,  with  his  life,  his 
mistake  of  attempted  "Empire."  While  contemplating 
the  scene,  a  carriage  drove  up,  containing  some  ladies 
clad  in  deep  mourning,  and  with  them  the  uncle  of  Mira- 
mon— "Tio  Joaquin" — as  the  three  prisoners  had  affec- 
tionately called  him  in  the  days  of  their  captivity.  The 


408  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

scene  was  a  touching  and  impressive  one,  as  he  stood  there, 
with  uncovered  head,  narrating  to  Seward,  in  low  tones 
and  with  deep  feeling,  the  incidents  of  the  capture,  the 
imprisonment,  the  trial,  the  farewell  messages  of  the  con- 
demned men  to  their  friends,  their  wishes  as  to  the  dis- 
position of  their  remains,  and  their  last  utterances,  as 
they  stood  up  to  receive  the  volley  that  ended  their  lives. 

Leaving  Queretaro  on  the  following  day,  the  coach, 
with  its  mounted  escort,  proceeded  over  valley  and  plain 
and  through  passes  in  the  Sierra,  till  it  stopped  for  the 
night  at  San  Juan  del  Rio.  Another  hospitable  welcome, 
with  addresses  and  music,  greeted  Seward's  arrival.  Here 
was  the  boundary  line  between  the  states  of  Queretaro 
and  Mexico. 

Two  days  more  were  spent,  chiefly  among  the  rocky 
hills  and  roads  that  showed  they  were  passing  through  the 
mountain  chain  surrounding  the  valley  of  Mexico.  Here 
were  great  plantations  of  the  maguey,  in  every  stage  of 
growth,  and  of  its  manufacture  into  the  national  beverage 
of  pulque.  The  Mexicans  were  amused  at  hearing  their 
northern  guests  give  it  the  appellation  of  the  "century 
plant, "  wondering  why,  since  here  tall  stalks  with  white 
blossoms  were  visible  every  year  in  every  field. 

'.At  Arroyo  Sarco,  high  up  in  the  mountains,  where  the 
stage  stopped  for  the  night,  there  was  a  fire  on  the  hearth, 
"the  only  one  you  will  see,  or  need,  this  winter. " 

Now  came  the  long  descent  toward  valley  and  plain, 
sometimes  almost  imperceptible,  as  the  road  wound 
through  forests  and  fields,  sometimes  quickly  and  rapidly 
down  some  rocky  declivity,  but  all  the  while  downward 
and  downward  still. 

Emerging  from  woods  and  rocks,  on  Monday,  the  I5th, 
as  the  road  wound  along  the  mountainside,  the  travellers 
saw,  gradually  unfolding  before  them,  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  panoramas  of  the  world.  The  valley  of 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  409 

Mexico  lay  spread  out  in  the  mellow  autumn  sunshine, 
dotted  here  and  there  with  white  villages  and  sparkling 
lakes,  and  surrounded  by  the  blue  mountain  range  from 
which,  high  above  the  rest,  rose  the  snow-clad  cone  of 
Popocatepetl.  Far  in  the  distance  were  the  gleaming 
towers  and  spires  of  the  city  of  Mexico.  On  one  hand  stood 
a  steep  hill  crowned  with  the  palace-like  castle  of  Chapulte- 
pec.  On  the  other  was  the  clustering  group  of  churches 
and  chapels  in  Guadalupe  Hidalgo. 

Down  from  the  mountain,  crossing  the  level  plain, 
passing  cultivated  fields,  long  causeways,  and  suburban 
villages,  the  stage  whirled  on,  till  suddenly  confronted, 
some  miles  from  the  city,  by  a  brilliant  welcoming  party. 
Sefior  Lerdo  de  Tejada,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
Sefior  Romero,  the  Minister  of  Finance,  and  Mr.  Nelson, 
the  American  Envoy,  were  waiting  with  carriages  and  a 
cavalry  escort,  to  receive  and  take  the  party  to  the  city. 
At  the  Garita  de  San  Cosme  the  carriages  paused  again, 
for  there  stood  President  Juarez,  with  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, come  out  to  welcome  the  guest  of  the  nation.  The 
cordial  greetings  of  old  friendship  were  exchanged  as  the 
cavalcade  rapidly  went  on  through  the  streets  past  the  old 
Alameda  of  Montezuma,  and  the  great  equestrian  statue 
of  Charles  the  Fourth,  past  stately  churches,  handsome 
dwellings  and  public  edifices,  to  the  corner  of  Alfaro  and 
San  Augustin  Streets. 

An  open  gateway  led  into  a  patio  lined  with  plants  and 
flowers,  and  around  it  were  the  rooms  of  a  charming  house 
fitted  up  with  luxury.  President  Juarez,  with  a  smile  and 
wave  of  his  hand,  said,  "Mr.  Seward,  will  it  please  you  to 
enter  your  house?  This  is  your  home!" 

Certainly  the  kind  friends  who  had  prepared  this  home 
had  spared  no  pains  to  give  it  every  requisite  for  quiet 
comfort,  or  for  social  entertainment.  Built  in  the  favour- 
ite Spanish  fashion,  its  large  reception-,  drawing-,  and  din- 


4io  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

ing-rooms  looked  out  on  the  ornamental  courtyard,  whose 
galleries,  draped  with  tropical  foliage,  offered  a  choice  of 
sun  or  shade.  Furnished  and  decorated  in  accordance 
with  modern  European  taste,  it  was  supplied  with  a  corps 
of  servants  and  equipages  to  meet  every  possible  wish. 
As  if  to  remind  him  of  home,  two  of  Canova's  statues  on 
the  main  stairway  were  the  same  as  those  in  the  entrance 
hall  of  his  house  at  Auburn. 

Visitors,  Mexican,  American,  and  European,  came  to 
proffer  warm  greetings  and  kindly  offices.  With  some,  it 
was  the  renewal  of  old  friendship  begun  in  Washington; 
with  others,  it  was  the  opening  of  a  new  and  agreeable 
acquaintance.  It  was  especially  pleasant  to  meet  again 
the  Juarez  and  Romero  families.  The  members  of  the 
Cabinet  called  in  a  body.  Military  and  civil  officers, 
formal  deputations  and  private  citizens,  all  came  to 
welcome  the  national  guest,  and  made  him  feel  that  he 
was  no  stranger,  but  a  well-remembered  friend. 

A  month  was  spent  in  this  charming  home.  The  city 
of  Mexico  has  many  places  of  historic  interest.  No  day 
was  allowed  to  pass  by  its  hospitable  people,  without 
some  agreeable  excursion.  The  majestic  Cathedral,  the 
spacious  Plaza,  the  curious  Aztec  Calendar  Stone,  the 
National  Palace,  with  President,  Cabinet,  and  Congress 
in  the  exercise  of  their  official  functions,  the  Museum, 
with  its  ancient  Aztec  memorials  and  bloody  Sacrificial 
Stone,  the  Mint  and  Assay  Offices,  the  School  of  Mines 
witfc  its  admirable  equipment  for  educating  miners, 
scientists,  and  engineers,  the  orderly  and  busy  streets,  the 
gaily  ornamented  shops,  the  massive  old  convents  and 
beautiful  churches,  the  Academy  of  Design,  with  paint- 
ings and  sculpture  that  showed  the  Mexicans  to  have  more 
natural  taste  and  aptitude  for  the  fine  arts  than  their 
northern  neighbours,  the  libraries  with  their  treasures  of 
rare  and  ancient  volumes,  the  Monte  de  Piedad,  whose 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  41 1 

benevolent  functions  have  gone  on  uninterruptedly  during 
a  century  of  wars  and  revolutions,  the  public  institutions, 
and  the  private  dwellings,  all  seemed  to  have  a  welcome 
for  the  nation's  guest. 

Strolls  through  the  beautiful  Alameda,  drives  on  the 
fashionable  Paseo,  and  walks  about  the  streets,  with  ever 
novel  views  of  the  distant  and  glistening  summits  of 
gigantic  Popocatepetl,  and  his  spouse  Ixtaccihuatl,  "the 
Woman  in  White,"  were  followed  by  longer  excursions 
about  the  city  and  its  romantic  suburbs. 

One  of  these  drives  was  to  look  at  the  old  cypress  tree, 
under  which  Cortez  is  said  to  have  taken  refuge,  on  the 
"Noche  Triste,"  after  his  bloody  and  disastrous  battle  in  the 
city.  Another  was  a  visit  to  Tacubaya  with  its  fine 
country  seats,  and  to  San  Fernando  with  its  historic 
graves. 

One  day  was  spent  in  visiting  Guadalupe  Hidalgo, 
where  thousands  of  Indians  were  congregated  to  hold 
their  annual  festival  in  honour  of  their  patroness,  "Our 
Lady  of  Guadalupe."  A  picture  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  with 
Aztec  dress  and  complexion,  is  enshrined  there  with 
reverence,  as  being  of  supernatural  origin,  and  as  com- 
memorating her  aspect  at  the  time  when  she  appeared 
to  Juan  Diego.  The  tradition  has  built  up  a  great  town, 
with  churches  and  convents,  around  the  spot  where  he 
saw  his  vision. 

Another  interesting  day  was  spent  in  company  with  the 
Ministers  of  War  and  Finance  and  their  families,  in  visiting 
the  battlefields  of  Contreras,  Churubusco,  Chapultepec, 
Molino  del  Rey,  and  the  Belen  Gate,  as  well  as  the  haci- 
enda of  La  Canada,  a  favourite  resort  of  Maximilian. 
Then  there  were  excursions  by  boat  up  the  Grand  Canal, 
to  see  the  monument  to  Guatamozin,  the  famous  "Float- 
ing Gardens,"  the  "Rock  Pinon, "  the  warm  springs,  and 
the  lakes  Chalco  and  Tezcoco. 


412  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

One  morning,  as  the  party  were  passing  through  a  hall 
of  the  National  Palace,  an  attendant  threw  open  a  side 
door  and  invited  them  to  look  in.  A  large  room  was 
piled  full  of  the  dusty,  mouldering  relics  of  the  dead  Em- 
pire— scarlet  canopies,  laced  liveries,  jewelled  swords, 
gold  and  silver  cups  and  vases,  rods  and  maces  of  court 
ushers,  belts  and  caps  of  imperial  guards,  royal  portraits, 
chairs  of  state,  battered  statuary  and  broken  monograms, 
furniture  from  throne  and  banquet  rooms,  costly  trappings 
and  useless  rubbish,  all  thrown  confusedly  together  as  no 
longer  of  any  service.  It  was  like  the  property-room  of  a 
theatre,  save  that  here  the  tragedy  was  a  real  one,  and  its 
insignia  were  of  enormous  cost.  No  sermon  on  the  vanity 
of  human  greatness  was  ever  preached,  half  so  eloquent 
as  that  silent  room! 

There  was  a  round  of  festivities  and  hospitalities,  public 
and  private.  There  was  a  dinner  at  the  United  States 
Legation,  followed  by  a  ladies'  reception.  There  was  a 
dinner  at  Mr.  Lerdo's  and  another  at  Mr.  Romero's. 
There  was  a  military  parade  of  the  regular  troops.  There 
was  a  gran  funcion  at  the  Circo  de  Chiarini,  another  at 
the  Opera  of  Crispino  e  la  Comare,  and  another  at  the 
Iturbide  Theatre  of  La  Cabana  de  Tom  (Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin). 

The  24th  of  November  was  spent  with  President  Juarez 
and  his  family  at  the  beautiful  castle  of  Chapultepec, 
which  had  been  fitted  up  with  all  the  decorations  and 
appliances  of  modern  art  as  one  of  the  imperial  residences. 
The  dinner  was  served  in  the  great  hall,  and  several  hours 
were  passed  in  looking  at  the  state  apartments,  galleries, 
corridors  and  courtyards,  fountains  and  gardens,  terraces 
and  groves,  and  in  viewing  the  magnificent  prospect. 
The  golden-hued  valley  of  Mexico  stretched  away  in  the 
sunshine;  the  white  walls  and  towers  of  the  city  gleaming 
in  the  foreground,  while  in  the  remote  distance  loomed 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  413 

up  the  snowy  summits  of  the  two  mountain  giants — 
Popocatepetl  and  the  "Woman  in  White." 

On  the  2yth  of  November  came  a  grand  banquet  at  the 
National  Palace,  the  invitations  to  which  were  issued  by 
the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  in  the  name  of  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Republic  and ' '  in  honour  of  William  H.  Seward." 
Four  hundred  guests,  including  all  the  chief  officers  of  the 
government  and  the  leading  members  of  Congress,  sat  at 
the  table — Juarez  and  Seward  together  at  the  head.  Here, 
as  at  the  other  festive  gatherings,  music,  toasts,  and 
speeches  prolonged  the  proceedings  to  a  late  hour.  These 
were  full  of  enthusiastic  and  affectionate  references  both 
to  the  United  States  and  to  Seward.  One  of  the  most 
eloquent  of  the  orators  was  Senor  Altamirano  of  Guerrero. 
He  said: 

"This  banquet  is  not  to  the  foreign  monarch,  who, 
leaving  his  throne  for  travel,  is  received  with  official 
orations;  nor  to  the  conqueror,  raising  the  cup  to  his  lips 
with  a  bloody  hand.  It  is  the  apostle  of  human  rights, 
the  defender  of  the  dignity  of  America,  and  one  of  the 
venerable  patriarchs  of  liberty,  whom  we  welcome  in  our 
midst,  and  in  honour  of  whom  we  decorate  with  flowers 
our  Mexican  homes.  ...  It  is  not  merely  Seward,  the 
great  statesman  of  the  age,  Premier  of  the  United  States. 
I  see,  and  only  wish  to  see  in  him,  the  friend  of  humanity, 
the  enemy  of  slavery,  and  the  liberator  of  the  bondsman ! 
His  heart,  his  thoughts,  his  whole  life  have  been  consumed 
in  the  task!" 

In  his  speech  of  acknowledgment  Seward  adverted  to 
the  crisis  of  1861,  when  Slavery  had  taken  up  arms  in 
alarm  for  its  life,  and  had  organized  rebellion  aiming  at  the 
dissolution  of  the  Union: 

"The  statesmen  of  Europe,  with  its  press  almost  unan- 
imous, announced  that  the  United  States  of  America 
had  ceased  to  exist  as  one  whole  sovereign  and  organized 


414  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

nation.  The  Emperor  of  France,  emboldened  by  the 
seeming  prostration  of  the  United  States,  landed  invading 
armies  at  Vera  Cruz  and  Acapulco  and  overran  the  terri- 
tories of  Mexico,  overthrowing  all  its  republican  institu- 
tions and  establishing  upon  its  ruins  an  European  empire. 

"With  the  United  States  in  anarchy,  San  Domingo  re- 
established as  a  monarchy,  and  Mexico  as  an  empire,  it 
was  unavoidable  that  republicanism  must  perish  through- 
out the  whole  continent.  ...  In  that  hour  of  supreme 
trial,  I  thought  I  knew,  better  than  the  enemies  of  our 
cause,  the  resources,  the  energies,  and  the  virtues  of  the 
imperilled  nation.  The  United  States  became,  for  the 
first  time,  in  sincerity  and  earnestness,  the  friend  and 
ally  of  every  other  Republican  State  in  America,  and  all 
the  Republican  States  became,  from  that  hour,  the 
friends  and  allies  of  the  United  States. " 

On  the  Qth  of  December,  came  the  grand  ball  at  the 
National  Theatre,  which  closed  this  series  of  hospitable 
demonstrations.  The  theatre  was  brilliantly  lighted,  and 
decorated  from  floor  to  roof  with  flowers,  and  with  Mexi- 
can and  American  flags.  Three  thousand  guests  were 
present.  After  the  opening  quadrilles,  there  were  waltzes 
and  galops,  but,  most  frequent  of  all,  the  favourite  na- 
tional danza,  with  its  soft,  slow  music,  and  its  graceful 
movement — the  dance  of  all  others  best  adapted  to  a  great 
ball,  since  it  enables  each  guest  to  meet  and  exchange 
greetings  with  every  other. 

The  street  by  which  the  guests  arrived  and  departed 
seemed  to  have  changed  into  a  great  illuminated  and 
decorated  arcade. 

The  time  fixed  for  departure  was  now  approaching. 
Farewell  visits  were  made  and  exchanged.  The  day 
before. leaving,  there  was  a  "last  breakfast, "  at  the  beauti- 
ful country  seat  of  Mr.  Barren  at  Tacubaya.  Many  and 
warm  were  the  heartfelt  expressions  of  affection  and 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  415 

regret  that  were  exchanged  with  Mexican  friends,  on 
bidding  adieu  to  them  and  to  their  historic  city. 

And  now  the  mode  of  travel  was  changed.  Mexico's 
first  railway  had  been  completed  from  the  city  as  far  as 
Puebla,  and  a  special  train  was  in  waiting  to  take  Seward 
thither.  He  left  Mexico  on  the  i8th  of  December  in  the 
President's  car,  and  was  accompanied  as  far  as  the  first 
station  by  Sefiors  Lerdo,  Romero,  and  Mejia  of  the  Cabinet 
and  their  families.  Luxurious  and  easy  as  was  the  car,  it 
had  one  disadvantage  as  compared  with  the  stagecoach 
in  the  mountains ;  for  it  gave  but  passing  glimpses,  instead 
of  intimate  acquaintance,  with  the  country  traversed. 
The  train  whirled  only  too  rapidly  through  Ometusco, 
Apam,  San  Juan,  Tehuacan,  and  the  battlefield  of  Cortez 
at  Otumba. 

Reaching  Puebla  toward  evening,  after  a  run  of  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  miles,  they  were  welcomed  by  the 
Governor  and  the  local  authorities,  and  were  lodged  in  the 
Bishop's  Palace — that  prelate  having  gone  to  Rome  to 
attend  the  Ecumenical  Conference.  The  Palace  was  a 
spacious  and  stately  structure,  with  long  suites  of  apart- 
ments for  the  accommodation  or  entertainment  of  clerical 
visitors,  as  well  as  the  keeping  of  valuable  records  and 
works  of  art.  Some  of  the  walls  and  ceilings  had  been 
frescoed  by  modern  artists.  One,  containing  the  doorway 
to  the  Bishop's  sleeping-room,  had  been  painted  (through 
some  religious  or  artistic  whim)  in  exact  imitation  of  the 
entrance  to  a  grated  prison  cell.  It  was  said  that  Maxi- 
milian, who  occupied  the  room  on  his  last  visit  to  Puebla, 
started  back  and  shook  his  head  with  a  melancholy  smile 
on  seeing  this  ominous  presage. 

Directly  across  the  plaza  was  the  great  Cathedral,  the 
largest  and  richest  on  the  continent,  and  all  around  could 
be  seen  the  towers  and  steeples  of  the  churches  and  con- 
vents that  attested  the  fidelity  of  Puebla  to  the  ecclesiasti- 


416  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

cal  organization  of  which  it  had  long  been  a  stronghold. 
Besides  these  edifices,  Puebla  had  other  points  of  more 
modern  interest,  in  its  fortifications  and  battlefields,  its 
buildings  riddled  and  shattered  by  artillery  during  the 
war  with  the  French.  The  victory  won  here  by  Zaragoza, 
on  the  5th  of  May,  has  made  the  Cinco  de  Mayo  a  national 
holiday. 

One  day  was  devoted  to  an  excursion  to  Tlascala — a 
city  three  centuries  old.  Here  was  the  capital  of  the  Indian 
republic  whose  people  became  the  allies  of  Cortez,  and 
aided  him  in  his  war  on  Montezuma's  empire  and  the  final 
conquest  of  Mexico.  Many  buildings  are  still  standing 
which  date  back  to  the  time  of  the  conquest.  Among 
them  is  the  church  built  by  the  Spaniards  in  1529 — the 
first  spot  on  the  continent  dedicated  to  Christian  worship. 
The  Governor  of  Tlascala  and  his  staff  met  and  welcomed 
Seward  to  the  city,  and  taking  him  to  the  State  Palace 
exhibited  the  antiquarian  relics  preserved  with  care — 
among  them  portraits  of  the  "  Conquistadores, "  and  of 
the  Tlascalan  allied  chieftains,  ancient  documents  bear- 
ing their  signatures,  Aztec  weapons  and  musical  instru- 
ments then  in  use,  and  the  royal  banner  unfurled  by  Cortez, 
faded  and  worn,  but  still  nearly  whole. 

Another  interesting  trip  was  to  Cholula,  to  visit  the 
celebrated  pyramid,  whose  origin  was  in  some  remote  age 
before  the  days  of  historians.  As  the  carriage  approached 
the  town,  its  people  were  seen  gathering  in  the  plaza;  while 
a  hundred  church  bells  were  chiming  forth  a  welcome. 
Ascending  to  the  top  of  the  pyramid  by  the  winding  path- 
way, paved  with  lava,  they  found  there  the  old  Spanish 
church,  standing  on  the  ruins  of  the  still  older  heathen 
temple  devoted  to  human  sacrifices. 

The  Prefecto  and  other  authorities  received  Seward 
with  addresses  and  a  collation.  One  of  the  incidents  of  the 
feast  was  the  appearance  of  a  band  of  musicians,  attired 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  417 

in  the  costumes  and  playing  upon  the  ancient  instruments 
the  wild  and  plaintive  melodies  of  their  Aztec  ancestors. 

In  his  speech,  Seward  said : 

"The  scene  around  me  seems  like  one  to  awaken  momen- 
tary inspiration.  I  am  on  the  steps  of  the  Aztec  Pyramid 
which  is  one  of  the  most  stupendous  altars  of  human 
sacrifice  ever  erected  to  propitiate  the  Deity,  in  the  ages 
when  He  was  universally  understood  to  be  a  God  of 
vengeance.  Around  me  lies  that  magnificent  plain,  where 
an  imperial  savage  throne  was  brought  down  to  the  dust, 
and  I  am  surrounded  by  Christian  churches  and  altars. 

"After  a  long  contest  with  monarchial  and  imperial 
ambitions,  the  independence  of  the  ancient  Aztec  race 
has  been  reconquered,  without  the  loss  of  the  Christian 
religion,  and  consolidated  in  a  representative  Federal 
Republic.  Witnesses  of  towering  majesty  and  impressive 
silence  are  looking  down  upon  me — La  Malinche,  bewilder- 
ing, because  she  is  so  indistinct,  and  the  volcanoes  of 
Popocatepetl,  Ixtaccihuatl,  and  Orizaba,  clad  in  their 
eternal  vestments  of  snow,  attest  that  nature  remains 
unchangeable,  and  only  men,  nations,  and  races  are 
subject  to  revolution. " 

Returned  to  Puebla  the  party  were  entertained  at  a 
banquet  by  Governor  Romero  y  Vargas,  at  which  forty 
or  fifty  guests  were  present.  On  the  morning  of  the  23d 
they  bade  adieu.  The  Governor  and  his  staff  accom- 
panied them  as  far  as  Tepeaca,  where  they  stopped  for 
breakfast.  Then  they  proceeded  on  their  way  in  a  stage 
escorted  by  a  detachment  of  the  neatly  uniformed  Rural 
Guard  of  Puebla — the  railway  to  Vera  Cruz  not  being  yet 
completed.  It  was  fortunate  for  them  that  it  was  not, 
for  then  they  would  have  missed  the  majestic  scenery  of 
Las  Cumbres  and  Aculzingo,  where  the  road  descends 
from  the  temperate  plateau  above  to  the  torrid  plain 
below — six  thousand  feet — in  ten  miles.  Gazing  at  the 


418  The  Guest  of  a  Nation 

apparently  illimitable  prospect  of  mountains,  canons, 
cascades,  precipices,  and  plains,  a  Californian  remarked 
with  a  sigh,  "Until  today  I  thought  that  nothing  could 
beat  the  Yosemite!" 

They  arrived  at  the  quaint  old  city  of  Orizaba  on  Christ- 
mas eve.  Horsemen  and  carriages  were  in  waiting  at  the 
gates,  city  authorities  with  the  ever-pleasant  and  welcome 
greeting,  and  a  large  and  handsome  house  ready  for 
occupancy.  Ten  days  were  spent  in  Orizaba,  enlivened 
by  the  festivities  of  the  Christmas  season.  Many  usages 
and  customs  with  which  a  devout  race  has  surrounded  it 
were  new  to  the  American  travellers.  Then  there  were 
fine  old  churches,  handsome  fruit  gardens,  and  modern 
factories  to  be  visited.  Many  localities  were  pointed  out 
that  had  been  the  scenes  of  incidents  of  the  French  in- 
vasion, or  of  the  war  with  the  United  States,  crumbling 
fortifications,  deserted  camp  grounds,  and  battered  walls. 
The  front  of  one  church  bore  so  many  scars  of  battle, 
marks  of  bullets  and  of  cannon  balls,  that  inquiry  was 
made  "when  that  fierce  fight  occurred?"  The  bystander 
to  whom  the  question  was  addressed  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders, and  said  he  did  not  remember;  "Es  costumbre  del 
pais,  senor."  (It  is  the  custom  of  the  country,  sir!) 

Magnificent  scenery  surrounds  Orizaba,  whose  promi- 
nent feature,  everywhere  visible,  is  the  high,  conical  snow- 
capped peak  which  bears  its  name. 

Leaving  Orizaba  on  the  4th  of  January,  they  overtook 
and  passed  a  procession  peculiar  to  Mexico.  This  was  a 
great  conducta — a  train  of  more  than  forty  carts  laden 
with  thousands  of  dollars  in  specie,  for  export.  Each  cart 
was  drawn  by  fourteen  to  eighteen  mules,  and  the  whole 
were  guarded  by  a  force  of  eight  hundred  government 
troops.  The  conducta  halted  and  the  soldiers  presented 
arms  as  "the  nation's  guest"  passed  by. 

The  journey  to  Vera  Cruz  by  way  of  Cordova  was 


The  Guest  of  a  Nation  419 

through  a  wild  and  rocky  region.  The  road  passed  through 
luxuriant  tropical  forests  in  its  gradual  descent  to  the 
coast.  A  short  pause  was  made  to  look  at  the  work 
on  the  Chiquihuite  Pass — a  gigantic  piece  of  railway 
engineering. 

Now  they  were  in  "Tierra  Caliente, "  out  of  the  region 
of  grain  fields,  orchards,  and  magueys,  and  again  among 
bananas,  oranges,  sugar  plantations,  and  cane  huts.  At 
Paso  del  Macho,  a  train  was  in  waiting;  and  in  a  few  hours 
more  they  were  in  Vera  Cruz.  ' '  Mr.  Seward's  house  "  was 
ready  here  also.  This  time  it  was  one  belonging  to  Mr. 
Schleiden,  a  merchant  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  a  brother  of  an 
old  friend,  formerly  Minister  at  Washington  from  the 
Hanseatic  cities.  The  Governor  of  the  state  of  Vera  Cruz, 
the  Collector  of  the  Port,  and  other  federal  and  state 
officials,  in  full  uniform,  soon  came  to  pay  a  visit  of 
ceremony  and  tender  a  welcome. 

Only  one  more  week  remained  before  departure.  It 
was  passed  in  rambles  through  the  well-paved,  substantial 
streets  of  Vera  Cruz,  visits  to  its  historic  spots,  to  its  great 
Mole,  and  to  the  Castle  of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa.  One  day 
was  spent  in  penning  farewell  letters  to  the  kind  friends 
who  had  made  the  journey  through  the  republic  so 
memorable  and  enjoyable. 

Besides  the  formal  letter  of  thanks  addressed  to  the 
Government,  Seward  wrote  to  President  Juarez: 

"But  I  could  not  think  of  leaving  the  country  without 
making  a  more  direct  and  unstudied  acknowledgment  of 
my  profound  sense  of  obligation  to  you  for  the  attentions 
and  hospitality  with  which  you  have  received  myself  and 
family  during  our  delightful  sojourn  in  Mexico. " 

To  Mr.  Romero  he  wrote: 

"It  is  not  to  renew  my  grateful  acknowledgment  that  I 
write  this  parting  letter,  so  much  as  it  is  to  assure  you  of 
my  profound  sympathy  with  you  in  your  arduous  labours 


420        Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers 

for  the  restoration  of  law,  order,  prosperity,  and  prestige 
in  Mexico. " 

And  to  Mr.  Bossero,  the  Government  Commissioner 
who  had  accompanied  him  from  Guadalajara,  he  expressed 
his  thanks  "for  cares  and  attentions,  which  have  not 
merely  saved  me  from  every  danger  and  discomfort, 
but  which  have  made  the  journey  of  my  family  and 
friends  a  constant  instruction  and  continual  pleasure." 

There  was  no  steamer  from  Vera  Cruz  proceeding 
directly  to  the  United  States,  all  the  lines  touching  at 
Havana.  As  the  change  from  a  tropical  to  a  northern 
climate  in  mid-winter  was  not  desirable,  Seward  decided 
to  spend  a  few  weeks  in  Cuba,  so  as  to  reach  home  in  the 
early  spring.  He  embarked  on  the  Cleopatra,  Captain 
Phillips,  on  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday,  January  nth. 
Long  after  she  had  passed  the  Castle  and  out  of  the 
harbour,  and  had  lost  sight  of  the  coast,  the  snowy  crown 
of  the  Pico  de  Orizaba  was  glistening  in  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun  on  the  distant  horizon.  It  was  like  a  last 
glimpse  of  an  old  friend,  and  the  party  sat  on  deck  in  the 
evening  watching  it,  and  recalling  their  thousand-and-one 
pleasant  memories  of  the  journey  through  Mexico. 


Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers.  A  Talk  with  M. 
Drouyn  de  PHuys.  It  was  after  the  close  of  our  Civil 
War,  the  collapse  of  the  Mexican  Empire,  and  the  fall  of 
Napoleon  III.,  that  my  father  for  the  last  time  visited 
Paris.  He  had  retired  from  office  as  Secretary  of  State, 
and  had  spent  two  years  in  travel.  On  his  return  from  his 
journey  round  the  world,  he  stopped  in  Paris  to  meet  old 
friends,  and  to  watch  the  growth  of  the  young  Republic. 
Mr.  O'Sullivan,  a  resident  there  who  had  been  connected 
with  the  American  diplomatic  service,  describes  an  inter- 
view that  took  place  between  my  father  and  M.  Drouyn  de 


Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers        421 

1'Huys,  who  had  been  the  Emperor's  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  He  writes : 

"Knowing  both  these  eminent  men,  remembering  how, 
at  the  heads  of  the  departments  of  foreign  affairs  of  France 
and  the  United  States,  they  had  been  pitted  against  each 
other  under  extraordinary  and  critical  circumstances, 
and  happening  to  visit  them  both  on  the  same  day,  I 
thought  they  ought  to  come  together,  and  mentioned  it 
each  to  the  other. 

"'I  should  be  most  delighted  to  meet  Mr.  Seward, ' 
said  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys;  'we  have  been  opposed  to 
each  other,  as  athletes,  but  I  preserve  a  great  esteem  and 
respect  for  him,  and  I  know  that  he  has  always  spoken 
kindly  of  me.  Moreover  I  have  not  forgotten  some 
excellent  cigars  which  he  did  me  the  agreeable  honour  of 
sending  to  me.' 

"  'M.  Drouyn  de  1'  Huys, '  said  Mr.  Seward  on  the  other 
hand,  'why,  I  was  but  yesterday  thinking  of  how  to  find 
him  and  call  upon  him.' 

"It  is  not  therefore  wonderful  that  the  next  day  Mr. 
Seward  and  I  alighted  at  the  door  of  M.  Drouyn  de 
1'Huys,  after  a  pleasant  drive  up  the  Champs  Elysees. 
They  met  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  and  manifest 
pleasure  reflected  from  each  countenance.  Mr.  Seward 
explained  that  he,  unfortunately,  could  not  grasp  and 
shake  the  hand  held  out  to  him,  as  he  once  could  have 
done.  M.  Drouyn  de  1'  Huys  is  a  tall,  large,  and  powerful 
man,  not  much  if  at  all  beyond  sixty,  with  a  massive  head 
and  open  countenance,  a  very  English  general  appearance, 
a  very  kindly  as  well  as  intellectual  expression,  and 
manners  at  once  cordial,  frank,  and  simple.  He  speaks 
English  quite  well. 

"I  need  not  describe  Mr.  Seward,  with  the  sad  traces 
of  his  cruel  wounds  on  his  face,  and  his  arms  rendered 
helpless :  but  with  the  same  bright  gleam  under  his  bushy 


422        Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers 

eyebrows,  the  same  hearty  laugh  at  a  good  point  of  his 
own  or  anybody  else's,  and  the  same  continuous  flow  of 
bold  and  pleasant  talk,  as  of  old,  in  his  better — no,  not  his 
better — but  his  younger  days. 

"I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  he  occupied  a 
good  three-fourths  of  the  conversation,  while  neither  M. 
Drouyn  de  1'Huys  nor  I  myself  could  have  wished  it 
otherwise. 

"An  interview  of  about  an  hour  and  a  half,  in  which 
the  conversation  ranged  far  and  wide,  on  topics  embracing 
politics  as  well  as  geography,  no  stenographer  present, 
no  notes  taken,  and  myself  the  only  third  person  present 
(you  will  forgive  to  my  Irish  origin  the  implication  that 
there  might  be  more  than  one  'third  person '),  I  myself  too 
much  under  the  charm  of  the  talk  to  think  of  fixing  it  in 
my  recollection  for  narrative — how  can  I  give  you  much 
of  an  account  of  it  ?  But  I  will  do  my  best. 

"It  began  on  the  topic  of  his  travels.  I  believe  I 
started  it  by  remarking  that  he  was  probably  the  only 
man  to  whom  it  had  ever  occurred,  since  the  world  was 
made,  to  have  been  so  nearly  killed  by  being  thrown  from 
a  carriage;  then,  while  lying  helpless,  to  have  been  left 
for  dead  under  the  stabs  of  a  powerful  assassin ;  and  then 
with  advanced  years  superadded  to  all  that,  and  strength 
greatly  impaired  by  the  consequences  of  his  injuries,  to 
have  made  the  circuit  of  the  globe,  which  he  would  have 
accomplished,  as  soon  as  he  had  got  back  home  from  his 
present  journey. 

"This  led  Mr.  Seward  to  give  an  interesting  account  of 
what  he  had  done.  After  his  eight  years  of  direction  of 
the  foreign  affairs  of  his  own  country,  he  had  a  desire  to 
visit  the  different  nations  with  whom  or  about  whom  he 
had  had,  in  various  ways,  to  deal. 

"He  first  went  to  Alaska,  which  he  had  bought  from 
Russia  with  a  view  to  marking  the  whole  hemisphere  as 


Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers        423 

properly  belonging  to  the  American  system  up  to  the 
North  Pole. 

"Then  he  went  to  Mexico,  whose  struggle  against 
imperialism  had  furnished  one  of  the  gravest  questions  of 
his  term  of  administration. 

"Then  to  Cuba  which  is  a  chronic  source  of  diplomatic 
questions  for  the  American  Government. 

"On  this  second  journey,  the  present  one,  he  took  in 
Japan,  China,  India  and  Egypt,  and  now  Europe. 

"From  Paris  he  was  going  to  Berlin,  and  thence  home 
by  way  of  London. 

"It  had  been  a  matter  of  great  interest  to  him  to  meet 
many  men  with  whom  he  had  had  more  or  less  dealing  as 
Secretary  of  State :  the  ministers  as  well  as  the  sovereigns, 
with  whom  he  had  discussed  international  questions  on 
behalf  of  his  Government.  He  had  paid  a  very  pleasant 
visit  to  Lord  Napier,  formerly  at  Washington,  now 
Governor  of  Madras;  Lord  Lyons,  formerly  at  Washington, 
now  British  Ambassador  at  Paris.  Another  of  his  old 
friends  he  had  great  pleasure  in  meeting  was  Henri 
Mercier,  formerly  French  Minister  to  the  United  States 
during  the  Mexican  imbroglio,  a  loyal  adherent  to  the 
Imperial  dynasty,  always  cordial  and  friendly  in  his  good 
wishes  for  the  United  States. 

"M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  asked:  'Can  you  tell  me  any- 
thing recent  about  Signor  Bertinatti,  formerly  Italian 
Minister  at  Washington,  who  was  once  a  confidential  and 
private  ambassador  from  me  to  you  at  a  grave  emergency 
in  our  diplomatic  intercourse  ? ' 

"Mr.  Seward  answered:  'Oh,  yes,  he  is  just  as  true  and 
earnest  and  sympathetic  as  he  was  then.  He  is  now 
Italian  Minister  at  The  Hague,  where  he  writes  he  has 
just  been  fitting  a  house  to  receive  me.  I  regret  very 
much  that  I  am  unable  to  see  him.' 

"'By  the  way,  those  confidential  missions  formed  a 


424        Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers 

very  important  feature  in  the  intercourse  between  our 
governments.  I  early  learned  that  the  Emperor  liked  that 
way  of  doing  business,  better  than  the  ordinary  diplomatic 
channel.  He  sent  several  confidential  messages  to  me  by 
persons  outside  of  your  department.  But  I  always  made 
it  a  point  that  our  confidential  replies  should  pass  through 
the  hands  of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  I  was  un- 
willing to  be  a  party  in  keeping  a  secret  from  him.' 

"The  conversation  then  turned  upon  Mr.  Seward's 
former  acquaintance  with  the  Emperor  and  his  visit  to 
Paris  in  1859.  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  asked:  'What 
opinions  did  you  form  of  the  persons  you  met  here 
then?' 

"'Of  Walewski,  that  he  was  a  minister  who  was  not 
possessed  of  the  Emperor's  entire  confidence.  Of  the 
Empress,  that  she  was  an  amiable  woman,  whose  influence 
was  exaggerated.  Of  the  Emperor,  that  he  was  a  man  of 
eminent  talents  and  sagacity;  that  he  desired  to  promote 
social  progress  in  France;  and  that  he  was  bolder  in  social 
reform  than  I  had  anticipated  from  the  manner  in  which 
he  reached  the  throne. ' 

"'What  do  you  think  of  him  now?' 

"'I  do  not  allow  myself,  if  I  can  avoid  it,  to  judge 
statesmen  any  more  than  generals  on  the  mere  ground  of 
their  success.  I  was  astonished  when  I  saw  the  Emperor 
afterwards  balancing  so  closely  between  the  United 
States  Government  and  the  Rebellion,  and  finally  throw- 
ing his  sword  into  the  scale,  by  his  expedition  to  Mexico. 
I  had  seen  him  when  he  was  in  exile  in  the  United  States; 
he  talked  with  me  at  Compiegne  about  his  visit  there. 
I  could  not  believe  it  possible  that  a  European  statesman 
who  had  visited  the  United  States  would  fail  to  see  that 
the  combination  of  the  States  was  impregnable,  and  that 
the  American  continent  should  never  again  be  the  theatre 
of  European  aggression  or  invasion.' 


Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers       425 

"'Then  you  were  disappointed?' 

"'Yes,  but  hardly  more  so  with  the  position  taken  by 
the  Emperor  than  with  the  position  which  the  British 
Government  at  first  assumed.  I  told  Lord  Lyons  yester- 
day, half  seriously,  that  the  three  most  impudent  men  in 
history  are  Hernando  Cortez,  himself  and  Henri  Mercier: 
Hernando  Cortez  when  he  proposed  to  Montezuma  that 
he  should  leave  his  palace,  and  become  the  hostage  in 
Cortez's  headquarters  for  the  preservation  of  peace;  Lord 
Lyons  and  Mercier,  when,  under  instructions,  they  came 
together  to  the  Department  of  State  to  announce  an 
agreement  between  the  British  Government  and  the 
Emperor  as  to  the  course  they  should  jointly  pursue  in 
regard  to  the  American  question.  I  told  them  that  the 
United  States  were  bound  to  hear  any  respectful  message 
from  either  of  those  governments  separately,  but  they 
were  not  bound  to  receive  communications  from  those 
states  conjointly.  The  two  ministers  assented  and  with- 
drew; and  each  afterwards  returned,  with  a  message  from 
his  own  government,  without  referring  to  the  action  of  the 
other. ' 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  Mr.  O'Sullivan,  "you  over- 
estimated the  personal  capacity  of  the  late  Emperor,  and 
that  at  the  bottom  of  the  Mexican  expedition  there  were 
influences  and  motives  which  did  not  appear  on  the  sur- 
face. M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys,  though  in  the  ministry 
during  the  period,  where  he  had  to  treat  with  you  the 
questions  growing  out  of  it,  was  not  in  it  at  the  under- 
taking of  the  Mexican  expedition,  to  which  he  had  always 
been  opposed. " 

M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  confirmed  this.  He  said  that  all 
had  been  settled,  the  attack  on  Puebla  made,  and  the 
engagement  with  Maximilian  taken  before  he  (M.  Drouyn 
de  1'Huys)  came  in.  He  added  this  was  not  the  only 
mistake  and  disaster  for  which  he  was  not  responsible, 


426        Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers 

but  which  he  was  called  upon  to  meet,  and  to  do  the  best 
possible  for  his  country  in  a  situation  created  by  others. 

Mr.  Seward  replied:  "I  can  well  understand  this  now, 
though  I  did  not  then.  From  the  time  of  Joseph  in  the 
Court  of  Pharaoh,  until  now,  it  has  been  the  hard  task  of  a 
prime  minister  to  give  up  all  the  merits  of  his  own  opinions 
to  his  chief,  and  to  bear  himself  the  responsibilities  of  all 
the  chief's  errors. 

"It  is  the  necessary  condition  of  ministerial  service.  I 
was  always  adverse  to  that  service.  But  in  the  most 
critical  hour  we  ever  had,  my  country  demanded  that 
service  of  me,  and  would  accept  no  other.  It  was  rendered 
with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  conditions  attached.  The 
minister's  reward  for  such  misapprehensions  is  to  be 
found  in  the  approbation  of  his  own  conscience. " 

Mr.  O' Sullivan  remarked:  "M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  had 
left  the  ministry  before  the  final  arrangement  was  made 
for  the  evacuation  of  Mexico  by  the  French  army.  He, 
I  presume,  is  as  desirous  as  I  am,  to  elicit  your  version  of 
that  transaction.  The  world  thought  that  you  might  have 
been  a  little  less  rough  with  France,  at  the  very  end, — 
than  you  were,  in  hurrying  them  out  so  very  peremptorily. " 

Mr.  Seward  answered:  "Of  course  the  world  did  not 
know  the  exact  situation.  It  taxed  all  the  confidence 
which  the  people  of  the  United  States  had  in  me,  when  I 
consented  to  take  the  Emperor's  stipulation  to  withdraw 
the  French  army  from  Mexico  in  three  instalments,  in 
November,  March,  and  the  November  following. 

"They  said  the  stipulation  on  his  part  was  perfidious. 
I  knew  better.  I  knew  that  the  Emperor  had  every  motive 
to  be  sincere,  and  I  trusted  him;  at  the  same  time  I  thought 
that  the  withdrawal  would  necessarily  be  made  all  at 
once,  and  earlier  than  he  had  promised  to  complete  it. 
As  the  time  approached  for  the  withdrawal  of  the  first 
instalment,  the  Emperor  found,  as  I  had  apprehended  he 


Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers       427 

would,  that  military  exigencies  would  prevent  the  execu- 
tion of  the  plan  of  evacuation  by  instalments. 

"The  Marquis  de  Montholon  approached  me  early  in 
the  season,  for  the  purpose  of  sounding  me  upon  a  propo- 
sition to  delay  the  November  evacuation.  Conscious  of 
the  difficulty  existing  on  our  side,  I  repelled  his  suggestion 
with  so  much  decision  that  he  forbore  from  presenting  me 
the  communication  from  his  Government,  in  which  the 
proposition  was  made. 

"At  a  later  day  he  came  to  read  to  me  the  communica- 
tion from  his  Government,  in  which  it  was  stated  that  the 
Emperor  would  not  withdraw  a  portion  of  the  troops  in 
November,  but  would  withdraw  the  whole  in  the  spring. 
When  this  communication  was  received,  the  session  of 
Congress  was  near  at  hand.  It  was  sure  to  be  unsatis- 
factory to  them  and  to  the  people.  Our  Civil  War  was  at 
an  end.  General  Grant,  with  the  Mexican  Legation 
urging  him  on  one  side,  and  a  powerful  party  in  Congress 
on  the  other,  was  inclined  to  send  an  army  into  Mexico 
to  expel  the  French.  I  knew  this  was  unnecessary.  I 
knew  it  was  easier  to  send  an  American  army  into  Mexico 
than  it  was  to  get  it  out  again.  My  understanding  of  the 
Monroe  Doctrine  is,  that  the  United  States  shall  maintain 
American  republics  against  monarchial  intervention,  but 
not  absorb  them  by  fraud  or  force.  I  therefore  hurried 
off  a  strong  dispatch  by  telegraph  to  be  read  to  the 
Emperor,  which  would  arouse  him  to  the  necessity  of 
giving  us  a  guaranty  for  the  execution  of  his  project. " 

"Ah, "  said  Mr.  O'Sullivan,  "that  was  the  famous  cable 
dispatch  of  two  thousand  words,  I  suppose. " 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Seward,  "it  contained  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  words,  but  the  telegraphic  cipher  at  that 
time  had  a  faculty  of  multiplying  signs,  so  that  I  think  it 
was  given  out  by  some  of  the  telegraph  people  that  it 
contained  ten  thousand  words.  Mr.  Bigelow  intimated  the 


428        Napoleon  III.  and  His  Ministers 

earnest  character  of  the  dispatch  to  M.  Lavalette,  then 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs.  The  Emperor  declined  to 
hear  it  read,  but  gave  the  guaranties  which  the  dispatch 
required,  so  the  transaction  was  satisfactorily  closed, 
without  offence  on  either  side. 

"It  was  a  pleasant  experience  in  Mexico,  to  receive  the 
thanks  of  the  President  and  his  ministers  for  my  agency  in 
procuring  the  withdrawal  of  the  French  army  without 
sending  the  United  States  force  to  expel  it. " 

Many  were  the  exclamations  and  expressions  of  interest 
and  sympathy  which  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  made  in  reply 
to  the  brief  account  which,  at  his  request,  Mr.  Seward 
gave  of  the  fearful  events  of  the  assassination  night  at 
Washington. 

Mr.  Seward  said  that  it  had  been  a  subject  of  some 
amusement  to  him,  to  note  the  European  reverberations 
of  the  telegraphic  accounts  of  that  night.  "At  the 
moment  when  it  occurred,  India  was  rapidly  coming  to 
replace  the  United  States  in  supplying  the  world  with 
cotton.  At  Bombay  they  showed  me  two  telegrams.  The 
first  was,  'London,  April  I5th,  Lincoln  shot,  Seward 
murdered.'  The  next  one  was,  'London,  April  i6th, 
Lincoln  dead.  Seward  not  dead.  Cotton  a  shade 
better.' 

M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys  expressed  a  hope  that  he  might 
some  time  be  able  to  visit  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Seward  said:  "You  must  come  while  I  am  there  to 
receive  you;  come  while  I  am  alive. " 

"Oh,"  answered  M.  Drouyn  de  1'Huys,  "no  fear  of 
that,  after  all  you  have  gone  through  without  its  prevent- 
ing you  from  making  a  tour  of  the  globe.  I  do  not  see 
what  could  ever  kill  you,  until  you  may  choose  to  die  of 
your  own  accord,  after  all  the  rest  of  us. " 

And  so  they  parted,  as  genially  as  they  had  met. 


Legislative  Life  429 

1869,  etc. 

Retirement  to  the  Country.  After  my  father's  death, 
the  next  few  years  were  largely  devoted  to  gathering  his 
correspondence,  and  writing  the  memoir  of  his  life. 

This  work  was  partly  done  at  his  old  homestead  in 
Auburn,  and  partly  at  our  new  home,  which  I  had  pur- 
chased, on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  River.  It  was  a 
rough,  uncultivated  piece  of  ground,  hardly  fit  for  farm 
purposes,  but  possessing  a  fine  prospect  and  the  possi- 
bilities of  natural  beauty  that  might  be  developed  and 
improved. 

There  was  a  plain  substantial  brick  house,  which 
would  serve  for  a  residence.  My  family  were  installed 
in  it,  and  we  began  the  operations  of  gardening  and 
cultivation. 

There  was  ample  leisure  for  literary  work,  plenty  of 
fresh  air  and  exercise,  and  notable  peace  and  quiet.  Here 
we  have  lived  ever  since,  except  for  the  periods  devoted 
to  travel,  or  the  exigencies  of  public  life,  when  I  was 
called  to  Albany  or  Washington  or  New  York. 

1875- 

Legislative  Life.  In  1874  the  Republicans  of  one  of  the 
New  York  City  districts  invited  me  to  become  their 
candidate  for  the  Assembly.  I  was  elected,  and  in  con- 
sequence found  it  necessary  to  take  up  my  residence  in 
Albany  again,  for  the  winter.  I  rented  a  furnished  house, 
very  near  what  had  once  been  the  site  of  the  Pearl  Street 
Academy,  where  I  had  spent  my  early  school  days. 

It  was  fifteen  years  since  I  had  formerly  resided  in 
Albany,  but  the  old  town  seemed  much  like  home.  It 
had  grown  considerably  to  the  north,  south,  and  westward 
— but  its  general  aspect  was  the  same.  Many  old  land- 
marks were  still  standing,  though  surrounded  by  many 
new  residences  and  places  of  business.  The  "Governor's 


430  Legislative  Life 

Mansion  "  of  my  boyish  memories  was  gone.  The  historic 
home  of  the  old  Patroons,  the  "Van  Rensselaer  Mansion," 
was  standing,  but  no  longer  occupied  by  the  family.  The 
"Schuyler  Mansion"  of  revolutionary  fame  had  been 
turned  into  a  public  institution.  New  churches  had  been 
erected  in  various  parts  of  the  city,  for  the  use  of  their 
old  congregations.  The  old  freestone  Capitol  still  stood 
on  State  Street  Hill,  though  showing  many  signs  of  age 
and  premonitions  of  its  approaching  end. 

Under  the  astute  and  able  management  of  Governor 
Tilden,  "the  Democrats  had  swept  the  State,"  and  the 
Republicans  were  in  a  minority  in  the  Legislature.  But 
the  Assembly  still  retained  some  of  its  veteran  leaders, 
among  them  Lieutenant-Governor  Alvord,  ex-Speaker 
Husted,  and  L.  Bradford  Prince. 

Shall  I  confess  that  the  issues  presented  for  our  con- 
sideration seemed  to  me,  at  first,  comparatively  trivial, 
and  unimportant?  Certainly  they  did  not  awaken  such 
enthusiasm  in  their  favour,  or  such  rancour  and  bitterness 
among  their  opponents,  as  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
at  Washington.  Yet  there  were  some  questions  among 
them  that  were  of  high  importance  to  the  welfare  of  the 
State. 

As  the  work  of  the  session  went  on,  I  found  that, 
although  belonging  to  the  minority,  I  received  my  full 
share  of  consideration.  I  was  listened  to  with  courtesy, 
though  voted  down  on  all  partisan  questions.  Whenever 
I  clearly  demonstrated  that  a  measure  was  undoubtedly 
for  the  public  good,  I  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining 
support  for  it.  Speaker  McGuire  appointed  me  on  various 
committees — I  think  eleven  or  twelve  in  all. 

Among  the  measures  of  chief  importance  at  this  time 
were  "rapid  transit"  in  the  city  of  New  York,  canal 
investigation  and  reforms,  and  amendments  to  the  Con- 
stitution. I  introduced  two  Constitutional  Amendments, 


A  Puzzled  Potentate  431 

providing  for  a  Superintendent  of  Prisons  and  a  Superin- 
tendent of  Public  Works,  which  were  afterwards  adopted. 
I  introduced  also  the  bill  for  the  construction  of  the  Ninth 
Avenue  Elevated  Railroad,  which  was  the  first  experiment 
in  the  way  of  "rapid  transit. "  So  it  fell  to  me  also  to  be 
one  of  the  spokesmen  in  behalf  of  the  advocates  of  the 
reduction  of  canal  tolls,  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Children,  and  of  other  measures,  for  the 
improvement  of  the  Banking  System,  and  the  adoption  of 
general  laws  instead  of  specific  charters. 

The  Legislature  supported  the  policy  of  Governor 
Tilden  in  regard  to  the  investigations  of  canal  frauds,  and 
the  amendments  to  the  New  York  City  Charter.  It  also 
elected  Francis  Kernan  to  be  United  States  Senator,  in 
place  of  Governor  Morgan,  and  extended  an  honorary 
welcome  to  William  C.  Bryant,  and  passed  a  flood  of  bills 
of  minor  and  local  interest. 

In  the  fall,  the  Republican  State  Convention  nominated 
me  for  Secretary  of  State,  and  named  several  veteran 
Republicans  as  candidates  for  other  State  offices;  among 
them  Francis  E.  Spinner,  whose  signature  as  United  States 
Treasurer  was  so  well  known  throughout  the  Civil  War. 
In  the  election,  however,  we  were  unsuccessful;  the 
Democrats  again  carrying  the  State,  though  by  a  reduced 
majority. 

1877. 

A  Puzzled  Potentate.  When  the  head  of  a  government 
is  changed,  it  is  the  custom  for  every  diplomatic  repre- 
sentative to  wait  upon  the  sovereign  to  whom  he  is 
accredited,  and  formally  announce  the  fact.  In  accord- 
ance with  this  usage,  our  representative  at  the  Court  of 
one  of  the  Barbary  Powers  formally  announced  to  his 
Highness  the  Bey  the  accession  of  Rutherford  B.  Hayes  to 
the  Presidency  of  the  United  States. 


432  The  Vice-President  of  the  Confederacy 

When  the  formal  ceremony  was  over  the  Bey  signified 
he  would  like  to  have  a  little  private  conversation  with 
the  minister.  Said  he: 

"What  has  become  of  General  Grant?" 

"He  retires  from  his  position  to  give  place  to  Mr. 
Hayes." 

"Was  the  fighting  bloody,  or  long  continued?  Was 
Washington  captured?" 

"Oh!  no,  your  Majesty.  All  was  peaceable  and  con- 
ducted in  order. " 

"And  what  proportion  of  the  army  does  General  Grant 
take  with  him?  And  what  part  of  the  public  treasure  is 
allotted  to  him?" 

"None  at  all,  your  Majesty;  General  Grant  simply 
becomes  a  private  citizen. " 

"How,"  exclaimed  the  Bey,  "a  private  citizen!  Why, 
we  have  been  hearing  for  years  that  this  General  Grant 
was  one  of  the  greatest  military  commanders  of  the  age. 
And  now  it  seems  he  has  surrendered  his  Capitol,  aban- 
doned his  army,  and  given  up  his  revenues  to  his  successor 
— all  without  even  striking  a  blow.  Allah  il  allah!  God 
is  great,  but  this  is  incomprehensible!" 

The  Vice-President  of  the  Confederacy.  Alexander  H. 
Stephens  was  a  prominent  and  dramatic  figure  in  Con- 
gress, in  the  early  days  of  the  Hayes  Administration. 
He  was  back  in  his  old  position  as  a  Democratic  leader 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  as  before  the  War.  But 
age  and  illness  had  overtaken  him.  He  could  not  rise 
from  his  seat  to  address  the  Speaker.  When  he  wished  to 
speak,  his  invalid  chair  was  wheeled  down  the  aisle  to  the 
open  space  in  front  of  the  Clerk's  desk,  and,  as  he  sat  there, 
his  emphatic,  but  shrill  and  enfeebled  voice  was  listened  to 
with  marked  attention  by  a  House  that  seldom  listened 
to  any  one  else. 


The  Vice-President  of  the  Confederacy  433 

The  Democrats  had  a  strong  majority,  and  many  of 
them  were  inclined  to  oppose  the  President,  and  even  to 
refuse  appropriations  for  his  administration,  on  the  ground 
that  Tilden  instead  of  Hayes  should  have  been  in  the 
Presidential  chair. 

At  the  instance  of  Secretary  Evarts,  I  had  been  recalled 
to  my  old  position  of  Assistant  Secretary  of  State,  and  met 
again  in  the  Department  many  of  those  whom  I  had  left 
there  eight  years  before. 

One  morning  a  message  was  brought  me  that  Mr. 
Stephens  would  like  to  have  a  call  from  me  at  his  rooms, 
where  he  was  ill  in  bed. 

I  went  down  to  the  hotel  and  found  him  propped  up  in 
bed  with  pillows,  and  attended  by  a  nurse.  It  was  an 
attenuated  form,  with  emaciated  face.  In  a  voice  hardly 
above  a  whisper,  he  said:  "I  have  something  to  say  to 
you,  Mr.  Seward,  which  perhaps  may  be  of  importance, 
and  I  hoped  to  say  it  today.  But  I  find  myself  too  weak. 
I  shall  be  stronger  in  a  day  or  two,  and  then  I  would  like 
to  come  up  to  your  rooms,  if  you  will  arrange  for  a  pri- 
vate interview  with  me  there." 

Of  course,  I  promised.  A  few  days  later  he  was 
brought  to  the  Department.  I  shut  out  all  other  visitors, 
and  his  wheeled  chair,  brought  up  in  the  elevator,  was 
rolled  into  my  room  by  a  stout  black  man.  A  tall  young 
Georgian  whom  I  took  to  be  his  secretary  attended  him. 
To  him  Mr.  Stephens  said:  "You  may  go  now.  I  shall 
not  need  you  any  longer." 

The  young  man  bowed  and  retired.  The  black  man, 
however,  remained  sitting  calmly  and  placidly  on  the 
sofa.  Looking  toward  him,  I  said,  "Don't  you  wish  him 
to  go  too?" 

Mr.  Stephens  looked  up  in  surprise.  "That, — oh,  that 
is  George.  He  is  always  with  me.  I've  no  secrets  from 
George." 

38 


434  The  Vice-President  of  the  Confederacy 

So  George  stayed  through  the  interview;  but  apparently 
took  very  little  interest  in  it. 

After  a  little  chat  over  the  old  times  before  the  war, 
when  he  and  my  father  were  so  long  at  opposite  ends  of  the 
Capitol,  and  on  opposite  sides  of  political  questions,  he 
said,  in  substance: 

"Though  always  sharing  in  the  opinions  of  my  section, 
I  was  not  in  favour  of  disunion.  When  secession  was 
first  talked  of,  I  opposed  it.  But  I  found  there  was  no 
use  in  resisting  what  had  become  the  general  feeling  of  our 
people,  and  when  my  State  seceded,  I  acquiesced  in  the 
situation.  Later  I  accepted  the  place  of  Vice-President 
of  the  Confederacy,  partly  in  the  hope  of  mitigating  the 
horrors  of  the  war,  which  had  become  inevitable,  and  of 
ending  it,  whenever  that  could  be  done  with  honour,  and 
with  due  regard  to  the  interests  of  the  South. 

"Your  father  and  I  did  not  see  each  other  again  until 
we  met  in  the  Fortress  Monroe  Conference,  where  he  with 
Mr.  Lincoln,  and  I  with  my  colleagues,  made  an  unavailing 
attempt  to  agree  on  terms  of  peace. " 

Continuing,  he  remarked  that  these  were  now  all 
matters  of  past  history.  Recanting  none  of  his  past 
opinions,  which  were  carefully  set  forth  in  his  books,  he 
remained  a  Southerner  and  a  Democrat.  But  he  now  was 
once  more  a  Representative  in  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States.  He  purposed  to  accept  and  faithfully  discharge 
the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  that  position.  And  so 
he  added,  "I  expect  and  desire  to  die  a  Union  man. " 

Then  he  went  on  to  say  that  he  should  not  be  a  sup- 
porter of  the  administration,  and  should  oppose  any 
measure  that  seemed  to  him  merely  Republican  and 
partisan.  But  he  should  countenance  no  unpatriotic 
refusal  to  vote  for  measures  that  were  for  the  true  interests 
of  the  country  and  the  public  welfare.  He  should  advise 
his  colleagues  not  to  deny  or  oppose  any  just  and  proper 


The  Recognition  of  Porfirio  Diaz       435 

appropriations  needed  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
Government  at  home,  and  to  uphold  its  interests  and 
prestige  abroad. 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  I  must  say  this  to  somebody.  I 
could  not  go  to  the  White  House  and  say  it  to  the  President 
without  exciting  talk  and  perhaps  provoking  newspaper 
controversy.  The  members  of  his  Cabinet  I  have  no 
personal  acquaintance  with.  But  I  can  talk  with  you,  on 
the  score  of  old  acquaintance,  and  what  I  say  you  are  at 
liberty  to  repeat  to  them. " 

The  conversation  was  somewhat  long,  as  he  expressed 
himself  more  clearly  and  emphatically  on  these  points, 
in  more  detail. 

Of  course  the  President  and  Cabinet  were  gratified  to 
know  of  his  views  and  his  proposed  course  of  action.  So 
far  as  I  am  aware,  he  faithfully  adhered  to  it  during  his 
term  in  Congress. 

I  did  not  see  him  again.  His  call  at  the  State  Depart- 
ment seemed  to  excite  no  outside  remark,  as  many  of  the 
leading  ex-Confederates — Gordon,  Lamar,  King,  Trescott, 
and  others — were  frequent  visitors  at  my  rooms  to  discuss 
questions  of  foreign  policy  or  candidates  for  foreign 
positions. 

1877. 

The  Recognition  of  Porfirio  Diaz.  Among  the  diplo- 
matic questions  awaiting  decision  by  the  new  administra- 
tion of  President  Hayes,  was  one  about  which  I  was 
supposed  to  be  especially  qualified  by  past  experience  to 
speak.  This  was  our  policy  in  reference  to  Mexico.  Of 
course  I  was  familiar  with  all  the  events  of  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  French  invasion,  and  Maximilian's  Empire,  and 
the  restoration  of  the  Republicans  to  power  there. 

When  I  was  in  Mexico  with  my  father  in  1869,  we  found 
a  peaceable  and  grateful  Republic  under  the  benign  ad- 


436       The  Recognition  of  Porfirio  Diaz 

ministration  of  our  old  friend  Benito  Juarez,  with  Lerdo  as 
Vice-President  and  Romero  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 
We  had  fondly  imagined  that  Mexico  had  now  entered 
upon  a  new  era  in  her  troublous  history,  and  that  con- 
stitutional Presidents,  in  due  course  of  election,  would 
succeed  each  other  there,  as  in  the  United  States. 

But  in  the  intervening  eight  years  President  Juarez  had 
died.  His  successor,  Lerdo,  was  driven  from  power;  and 
the  Presidency  had  been  grasped  by  Porfirio  Diaz,  whom 
we  had  known  as  an  able  and  patriotic  general  and  pre- 
sumably a  supporter  of  the  constitutional  order  of  things. 

Now  he  appeared  in  the  unwelcome  character  of  a 
disturber  of  the  public  peace  and  a  usurper  of  the  Presi- 
dential office  by  revolution.  We  were  assured  that  the 
Mexicans  approved  of  him,  and  would  not,  at  all  events, 
resist  his  accession  to  supreme  power. 

It  fell  to  me,  therefore,  to  outline  the  policy  of  the 
United  States  in  regard  to  Mexico,  as  well  as  in  reference 
to  other  Spanish-American  Republics.  The  rules  thus 
laid  down  have  been  followed  ever  since  by  the  Govern- 
ment of  the  United  States.  In  an  instruction  to  Mr. 
Foster,  I  wrote: 

"It  is  the  custom  to  accept  and  recognize  the  results  of 
a  popular  choice  in  Mexico,  and  not  to  scrutinize  closely 
the  regularity  or  irregularity  of  the  methods  by  which 
Presidents  are  inaugurated.  In  the  present  case  the 
Government  waits  before  recognizing  General  Diaz  as 
the  President  of  Mexico,  until  it  shall  be  assured  that  his 
election  is  approved  by  the  Mexican  people,  and  that  his 
administration  is  possessed  of  stability  to  endure  and  a 
disposition  to  comply  with  the  rules  of  international 
comity  and  the  obligations  of  treaties.  Such  recognition, 
if  accorded,  would  imply  something  more  than  a  mere 
formal  assent.  It  would  imply  a  belief  that  the  Govern- 
ment so  recognized  will  faithfully  execute  its  duties  and 


The  Story  of  Samoa  437 

observe  the  spirit  of  its  treaties.  The  recognition  of  a 
President  in  Mexico  by  the  United  States  has  an  important 
moral  influence  which  is  appreciated  at  the  capital  of  that 
Republic. " 

The  recognition  of  President  Diaz  was  therefore  de- 
ferred for  some  months,  and  meanwhile  he  gave  assurance 
that  the  treaty  obligations  of  Mexico  to  the  United  States 
would  be  faithfully  observed  by  him.  The  Mexican 
people  also  sanctioned  his  choice  by  a  regular  election. 

He  then  entered  upon  that  long  career  of  over  thirty 
years,  in  which,  by  successive  elections,  he  remained  the 
ruler  of  Mexico,  with  the  consent  of  his  people,  maintain- 
ing her  peace,  developing  her  resources,  and  adding  to  her 
prosperity. 

1877. 

The  Story  of  Samoa.  One  morning  in  1877,  while 
sitting  at  my  desk  in  the  Department  of  State,  I  was 
informed  that  two  gentlemen  "from  some  Pacific  Islands" 
desired  to  see  me.  On  entering,  they  introduced  them- 
selves. One  was  an  American  merchant,  who  had  been 
engaged  in  business  at  Apia  Harbour.  The  other  was  a 
tall,  fine-looking,  swarthy-complexioned  man,  in  ordinary 
American  dress,  who  proved  to  be  the  Secretary  of  State 
and  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  of  the  Samoan  Islands. 

He  spoke  English  easily  and  fluently,  but  with  some 
quaint  idioms  that  seemed  to  render  it  more  impressive. 
When  I  asked  how  he  had  learned  it,  he  told  me  that  he 
was  taught  by  the  missionaries.  Schools  and  text-books 
not  being  available,  his  chief  book  for  study  of  the  lan- 
guage had  been  the  Bible. 

His  credentials  proved  to  be  all  in  proper  form,  and  as 
the  business  which  brought  him  to  Washington  was  so 
important  it  had  been  deemed  wise  that  he  should  come 
on  himself,  instead  of  entrusting  it  to  any  diplomatic  or 


438  The  Story  of  Samoa 

consular  representative,  I  duly  presented  him  to  the 
Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Evarts,  and  to  President  Hayes, 
and  I  was  authorized  to  discuss  matters  with  him  on  the 
part  of  our  Government. 

With  the  increase  of  intercourse  and  trade,  the  Samoan 
Islanders  had  perceived  that  they  might  become  the 
object  of  some  intrigue,  or  perhaps  fall  under  the  sway  of 
some  one  of  the  maritime  powers  of  Europe,  whom  they 
would  be  powerless  to  resist.  Doubtful  of  their  ability  to 
maintain  peaceful  and  stable  existence,  they  wished  the 
United  States  to  recognize  and  protect  their  independence, 
to  establish  commercial  relations  with  their  people,  and 
to  assist  them  in  their  steps  toward  regulated  and  re- 
sponsible government. 

In  short,  his  mission  was  nothing  less  than  to  ask  that 
they  might  come  under  the  flag  of  the  United  States,  and 
become  a  part  of  our  extended  dominion,  either  by  formal 
annexation  or  under  a  protectorate,  in  such  form  as  the 
American  Government  might  prefer. 

Having  seen  Pacific  islands,  one  after  another,  eagerly 
seized  upon  by  some  European  power,  and  having  no  wish 
to  become  subjects  of  any  such  power,  they  had  decided 
to  offer  their  islands  to  the  United  States.  Of  course 
they  hardly  anticipated  that  there  would  be  any  hesita- 
tion on  our  part  in  accepting  such  an  offer. 

I  explained  that,  while  the  American  people  had  in 
former  years  been  willing  and  desirous  of  extending  their 
national  domain  on  the  continent,  yet  there  had  now 
come  a  decided  change  in  public  opinion.  Extension  of 
the  national  boundaries  was  now  looked  upon  with  dis- 
favour. 

Especially  was  there  a  strong  opposition  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  any  islands,  near  or  remote,  inhabited  by  any  race 
but  our  own.  The  proposed  treaties  for  naval  harbours 
in  the  West  Indies,  and  for  the  acquisition  of  St.  Thomas, 


The  Story  of  Samoa  439 

Santa  Cruz,  and  Santo  Domingo,  had  been  shelved  or 
summarily  rejected.  Even  the  Panama  Canal  had  been 
allowed  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  a  European  power;  and 
the  purchase  of  Alaska  was  still  a  subject  of  reproach  and 
ridicule,  and  pronounced  a  gigantic  folly. 

Having  had  a  hand  myself  in  the  negotiation  of  these 
treaties,  I  could  foresee  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the 
mission  he  had  undertaken.  Of  course  I  believed  this 
dread  of  national  expansion  was  a  passing  phase  and  an 
unreasonable  and  unnatural  one.  But,  while  it  lasted,  it 
had  to  be  reckoned  with. 

The  Samoan  proposals  were  laid  before  Secretary 
Evarts,  and  by  him  laid  before  the  President  and  Cabinet. 
Both  President  Hayes  and  Mr.  Evarts  believed  that  my 
father's  policy  in  this  regard  had  been  wise  and  judicious. 
But  they  saw  also  that  it  would  now  encounter  the  same 
opposition  that  it  had  during  the  administration  of  Presi- 
dent Johnson  and  subsequently  under  that  of  President 
Grant. 

The  Navy  Department  warmly  favoured  the  Samoan 
proposition,  as  it  had  always  desired  the  establishment 
of  naval  outposts  in  the  Pacific.  In  fact,  tentative  steps 
had  already  been  taken  by  naval  officers  for  obtaining  a 
port  in  the  Islands  for  coaling  and  repairs. 

The  leading  members  of  the  Foreign  Affairs  Committees 
in  Congress,  and  the  leading  Republicans  in  both  Houses 
were  sounded.  There  were  differences  of  opinion  among 
them,  but  practically  all  were  agreed  that  the  times  were 
inauspicious  for  the  consideration  of  any  such  project. 
The  Senate  would  not  consent  to  any  treaty  that  involved 
expense  or  obligation,  and  the  House,  in  which  there  was 
an  anti-Administration  majority,  would  vote  it  down  as  a 
matter  of  course.  It  seemed  to  be  considered  a  mark  of 
patriotism  to  oppose  any  addition  to  our  own  country. 

The  Samoan  Envoy  listened  gravely  and  sadly  to  the 


440  The  Story  of  Samoa 

recital  of  these  adverse  conditions.  Finally,  he  said  that 
I  might  draw  up  the  treaty  in  any  form  I  thought  best, 
and  he  believed  his  people  would  agree.  They  would  give 
us  their  best  harbour,  that  of  Pago-Pago,  which  fortu- 
nately was  as  yet  unoccupied,  and  in  return  would  ask 
nothing,  except  our  assurances  of  peace  and  friendship. 

I  drafted  a  treaty,  and  then  another  and  yet  another, 
endeavouring  to  meet  the  various  Congressional  and 
popular  objections.  It  seemed  as  if  the  Senate  might  be 
induced  to  consent  to  the  acceptance  of  a  harbour,  provided 
the  country  was  not  to  pay  anything  for  it,  or  even  to 
agree  to  protect  or  defend  it. 

So,  at  last,  the  treaty  was  put  into  that  form.  Even  the 
phrases  tendering  our  good  offices  in  case  of  disputes 
with  other  powers  were  objected  to,  but  were  finally 
allowed  to  stand.  The  treaty  was  signed  and  sealed  by 
the  Secretary  and  Mr.  Mamea,  the  Samoan  Envoy.  It 
was  sent  to  the  Senate,  and  in  due  time  was  confirmed. 

The  press  and  the  public  seemed  to  regard  the  matter 
with  indifference,  and  the  House  refused  any  appropria- 
tion for  a  coal  yard  for  Pago-Pago,  which  remained 
deserted  and  unused. 

The  Diplomatic  Corps  of  course  took  note  of  the 
Samoan  affair.  Some  of  them  were  amused  and  others 
puzzled  by  it.  For  a  nation  of  ' '  landgrabbers  "  as  we  were 
called  in  Europe,  we  seemed  to  be  very  slow  and  reluctant 
to  take  steps  for  our  own  aggrandizement. 

When  I  mentioned  to  the  British  Minister,  Sir  Edward 
Thornton,  that  the  Samoans  might  perhaps  ask  Queen 
Victoria  for  a  protectorate,  in  case  their  negotiations  with 
us  should  fail,  he  smiled  and  said,  "Well,  I  suppose  we 
should  take  them,  but  I  do  not  think  we  should  care  to 
enter  into  any  quarrel  about  it.  " 

A  few  months  later,  Dr.  von  Schlozer,  the  German 
Minister,  came  into  my  room  in  very  cheerful  mood. 


A  Night  Move  against  a  Mob         441 

"Aha!"  said  he.  "Also  we  have  a  harbour  in  Samoa. 
Not  the  best — no,  you  have  the  best.  You  have  Pago- 
Pago.  But  we  have  the  next  best. " 

"What  one  have  you,  mein  Herr?" 

"Apia — Apia  Harbour.  It  is  a  good  harbour.  It  is 
where  the  people  are,  and  the  trade.  We  shall  use  our 
harbour  now.  You  do  not  use  yours — no.  But  you  will, 
some  day.  Some  day,  you  will. " 

And  in  so  saying  the  cheery  Envoy  proved  himself  a 
prophet. 

A  Night  Move  against  a  Mob.  It  was  in  the  summer  of 
1877.  Washington  was  sweltering  in  the  heats  of  July. 
The  dry  and  dusty  streets  were  deserted  by  all  who  were 
not  obliged  to  face  the  blazing  sunshine.  Congress  and 
the  Courts  were  gone.  Officers  of  the  Departments  were 
having  their  usual  summer  vacations.  President  Hayes 
was  living  out  at  the  Soldiers'  Home.  The  Secretary  of 
State,  Mr.  Evarts,  was  up  at  his  country  place,  at  Windsor, 
Vermont,  and  I,  as  Acting  Secretary,  was  in  charge  of  the 
Department  of  State.  The  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Mc- 
Creery,  was  out  in  Iowa,  and  the  Adjutant-General  was 
in  charge  of  the  War  Department. 

Four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  was  at  hand,  and  the 
clerks  were  putting  up  their  papers  and  locking  up  their 
desks, — when  a  messenger  came  over  from  the  War 
Department.  Sudden  and  disquieting  news  was  coming 
in  by  telegraph,  requiring  immediate  conference  between 
the  Acting  Secretaries  of  State  and  War. 

The  conference  was  held  at  once;  and  we  found  ourselves 
confronted  with  a  serious  situation.  There  had  been  some 
weeks  of  railroad  troubles,  growing  out  of  the  business 
depression,  and  augmented  by  the  lack  of  harmony 
between  their  managers,  a  war  of  rates,  and  hasty  and 
sweeping  reduction  of  wages.  Strikes  and  riots  had  re- 


442          A  Night  Move  against  a  Mob 

suited,  beginning  in  Maryland,  and  spreading  to  Penn- 
sylvania. 

Now  had  come  information  that  the  troubles  had  cul- 
minated in  riots  o'  grave  proportions  in  Pittsburg. 
Merchants,  mechanics,  the  local  press,  and  many  citizens, 
having  their  own  reasons  for  discontent,  had,  at  the  outset, 
largely  given  their  sympathies  to  the  strikers.  But  they 
speedily  found  they  were  rousing  a  power  they  could  not 
control.  Crowds  of  the  unemployed  thronged  to  the 
scene  of  disturbance  "to  aid  the  strikers."  Thieves, 
criminals,  and  lawless  outcasts  saw  their  opportunity  to 
pursue  their  nefarious  plundering,  while  posing  as  "friends 
of  the  working  man,"  and  loudly  proclaiming  a  "war  of 
Labour  against  Capital. "  A  hundred  thousand  men  were 
said  to  be  involved  in  it.  Trains  were  stopped.  Business 
was  paralysed.  Riot,  arson,  murder,  and  pillage  had  begun. 
Affairs  in  Pittsburg  were  rapidly  assuming  the  shape  of 
anarchy.  The  police  were  inadequate.  The  civil  authori- 
ties were  powerless.  The  State  soldiery  were  more  or  less 
disaffected,  many  of  them  fraternizing  with  the  rioters. 
Peaceable  citizens  were  helpless.  The  Governor  was  out 
of  the  State  travelling  at  the  West.  His  Adjutant-General 
was  sending  militia  from  Philadelphia,  but  it  was  said 
they  would  be  overborne,  or  join  the  mob.  As  one  of  the 
organs  of  the  strike  sympathizers  exultingly  declared, 
"The  Lexington  of  the  Labour  Conflict  is  at  hand!" 

The  Governor,  hastening  homeward,  had  telegraphed 
to  Washington  for  aid  from  the  General  Government. 
No  other  power  could  stop  the  destruction  of  life  and 
property  at  Pittsburg  but  "Uncle  Sam."  And  "Uncle 
Sam's"  hands  were  tied! 

The  promoters  of  the  "Labour  War"  had  laid  their 
plans  with  shrewdness  and  cunning.  They  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  political  situation.  Congress  had  ad- 
journed in  March  without  passing  the  Army  Appropria- 


A  Night  Move  against  a  Mob         443 

tion  bill, — so  the  soldiers  would  be  left  without  pay. 
Furthermore,  the  stringent  legislation  adopted  at  the 
instance  of  the  Southern  States  had  provided  that  no 
United  States  troops  should  be  moved  into  any  State 
until  after  a  formal  request  for  them  should  be  made  by 
the  Governor,  and  not  then  until  after  the  President  had 
issued  his  proclamation,  calling  upon  the  disorderly 
elements  to  desist  and  return  to  their  homes  "within 
twenty  days."  So  it  looked  to  the  Pittsburgers  as  if 
their  city  was  likely  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  rioters  for  at 
least  three  weeks.  And  it  looked  so  to  the  rioters  too! 
With  the  Federal  troops  kept  out,  the  mob  would  have 
full  sway. 

The  General  Government  practically  had  no  Army 
available.  There  were  no  United  States  troops  anywhere 
within  reach,  that  would  be  at  all  adequate  to  cope  with 
any  formidable  force.  There  were  a  few  scattered  garri- 
sons at  Carlisle  Barracks,  Cleveland,  Philadelphia,  and 
elsewhere,  from  which  squads  or  detachments  might  be 
drawn.  But  that  was  all.  And  there  was  no  time  to 
lose. 

We  summoned  our  clerks  back  to  their  desks,  and 
prepared  for  a  night's  work.  The  Acting  Secretary  of 
War  answered  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  by  advising 
him  to  make  his  formal  request  for  troops  at  once,  and 
to  make  it  by  telegraph.  He  instructed  the  commanders 
of  the  different  garrisons  to  equip  detachments,  and  hold 
them  in  readiness  to  move  at  daybreak. 

Meanwhile  I  sat  down  at  my  desk  to  prepare  the  neces- 
sary Proclamation  for  the  President  to  issue,  and  sent  a 
messenger  out  to  the  Soldiers'  Home,  to  ask  President 
Hayes  not  to  retire  until  it  should  come  to  him  for  his 
signature.  Then  I  sent  over  to  "Newspaper  Row,"  to 
invite  the  correspondents  of  the  leading  journals  to 
assemble  at  the  State  Department  at  midnight,  as  there 


444          A  Night  Move  against  a  Mob 

would  be  important  news,  which  their  papers  would  desire 
to  put  in  their  morning  editions. 

The  whole  military  force  that  we  could  muster  would  be 
but  inconsiderable.  But  there  was  a  potent  moral  in- 
fluence on  which  we  thought  we  could  rely.  That  was 
the  latent  patriotism  of  the  people.  Ever  since  the  close 
of  our_Civil  War,  profound  respect  and  even  reverence 
had  been  shown  for  the  National  flag  and  the  National 
authority.  There  was  no  one  now,  who  would  willingly 
care  to  fire  on  the  "Stars  and  Stripes, "  or  to  lift  his  hand 
in  open  conflict  with  the  "Boys  in  Blue. "  Even  the  mail 
waggons  of  ' '  Uncle  Sam  "  were  not  molested  by  the  rioters. 
So  we  determined  that  "Old  Glory"  should  wave  in 
Pittsburg  streets,  even  if  borne  there  by  only  a  corporal's 
guard,  and  that  the  country  should  see  whether  it  was 
respected  or  defied. 

Everything  was  done  with  dispatch.  When  midnight 
arrived,  our  responses  had  all  been  received,  and  our 
documents  were  ready.  Our  messenger  had  found  the 
President  reclining  on  his  lounge,  awaiting  the  proclama- 
tion. He  had  read,  approved,  and  signed  it.  The  seal  and 
attestation  were  appended.  The  Governor's  call  for 
troops  had  been  received,  acknowledged,  and  filed.  The 
commanders  of  the  troops  reported  their  men  in  readiness 
to  move  at  daybreak.  The  newspaper  offices  would  hold 
back  their  presses,  if  need  be,  for  the  proclamation.  The 
correspondents  had  assembled  and  had  been  furnished 
with  the  copies  prepared  for  them,  and  with  information 
of  the  "movements  of  troops. " 

Next  morning,  at  their  breakfast  tables,  the  people  of 
Washington,  Baltimore,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Harris- 
burg,  and  Pittsburg  read  in  their  newspapers  the  proclama- 
tion of  the  President,  and  the  news  that  the  United  States 
Army  was  on  its  way  to  Pittsburg,  and  that  its  advance- 
guard  would  reach  there  early  in  the  day. 


Outcome  of  a  Fugitive  Slave  Case      445 

The  leaders  of  the  rioters  now  held  their  hurried  con- 
sultations. Only  a  few  squads  of  United  States  soldiers 
would  arrive,  but  resistance  of  these  involved  a  principle, 
and  would  mean  a  struggle  thenceforward  with  the  whole 
civil  and  military  power  of  the  United  States.  They 
decided  that  discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valour,  and 
that  rioters'  proceedings  should  be  postponed  to  a  more 
favourable  time.  Pittsburg  subsided  at  once  into  the 
quiet  suitable  to  a  summer's  morning  in  a  loyal  town, 
even  before  the  "advance-guard"  arrived. 

A  day  or  two  later,  President  and  Cabinet  reassembled 
around  the  Cabinet  council  table  at  the  White  House  and 
took  the  situation  in  charge.  General  Hancock  was 
summoned  to  command,  and  authorized  to  use  the  whole 
Division  of  the  Atlantic  to  restore  law  and  order.  When 
he  arrived,  with  his  little  force  of  six  hundred  "Regulars, " 
they  were  as  welcome  in  Pittsburg  as  the  first  regiments  of 
volunteers  had  been  in  Washington  in  1861.  Peace  pre- 
vailed at  once.  Rioters  dispersed,  and  criminals  slunk 
to  their  hiding  places.  Strikers  returned  to  duty,  and 
business  was  resumed  as  usual. 

1877. 

The  Outcome  of  a  Fugitive  Slave  Case.  Attorney- 
General  Devens  came  into  my  room  one  day  and  said, 
' '  Do  you  remember  the  case  of  '  Thomas  Sims '  in  Boston  ? " 

"Of  course, "  said  I.  "Wasn't  that  the  one  that  stirred 
Boston  so  greatly?  When  chains  were  said  to  have  been 
put  around  the  State  House  and  Faneuil  Hall,  and  the 
church  bells  tolled  as  for  a  funeral,  while  they  were  taking 
the  fugitive  under  military  escort  down  to  the  wharf — 
amid  the  execrations  and  curses  of  the  mob?" 

"Yes, "  said  he,  "that  was  the  one,  and  I  was  the  mar- 
shal of  the  United  States  Court  at  that  time.  Much  as  I 
disliked  the  law,  I  considered  it  my  official  duty  to  execute 


446      Outcome  of  a  Fugitive  Slave  Case 

it,  in  spite  of  the  resistance  of  the  mob.  I  sent  '  Sims '  off 
in  charge  of  his  owner.  But  I  determined  then  to  keep 
track  of  him,  and  to  see  if  I  could  not  get  him  released 
from  slavery. 

"I  found  the  place  where  he  was  taken,  and  raised  the 
money  to  buy  his  freedom.  When  Mrs.  Lydia  Maria 
Child  proposed  to  raise  a  similar  fund,  I  wrote  her  a  let- 
ter requesting  her  to  return  the  sum  she  had  collected 
for  that  purpose  and  that  she  allow  me  the  privilege  of 
paying  the  whole  sum  myself.  But  our  efforts  were 
fruitless,  and  the  owner  refused  the  offer. 

"Then  the  war  came  on  and  I  went  into  it,  as  you  may 
remember,  in  '61." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "you  entered  as  a  Major  of  Massachu- 
setts Rifles  and  ended  as  a  Major-General  in  command  of  a 
Corps  in  '64,  at  Richmond." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "the  war  and  the  Emancipation  Pro- 
clamation liberated  '  Sims ' — and  when  you  call  to  see  me 
at  the  Attorney-General's  office,  you  will  find  him  on 
duty  there." 

I  did  so  and  found  the  celebrated  ex-slave  smiling  and 
respectful,  and  highly  pleased  with  his  position  under  the 
United  States  Government. 

I  told  General  Devens  that  my  recollections  went  even 
farther  back  than  his — that  I  happened  to  be  in  the  Senate 
chamber  when  Senator  Mason  rose  in  his  place,  next  to 
John  C.  Calhoun,  and  read  the  provisions  of  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Law  that  he  was  about  to  offer.  They  were  so 
drastic  and  vindictive,  with  pains  and  penalties,  in 
commanding  every  man  and  woman  in  the  North  to 
become  slave  catchers,  that  I  wondered  at  them. 

I  was  then  only  a  law  student,  and  I  wondered  that  a 
grave  Senator  of  the  United  States  should  not  foresee  that 
such  an  enactment  would  goad  people  to  frenzy,  and 
precipitate  the  very  evils  of  disunion  and  civil  war  which 


vt 


The  Yorktown  Centennial  447 

he  professed  to  dread — for  Mason,  at  that  time,  was  not 
an  avowed  disunionist.  I  was  then  an  ardent  Whig,  but 
three  years  later  I  saw  the  collapse  of  the  Whig  Party, 
which,  as  a  cynical  critic  remarked,  "died  of  an  attempt 
to  swallow  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law. " 

1879. 

Country  Life.  When  I  retired  from  office  in  1879,  my 
house  in  Washington  was  taken  by  the  Swedish  Govern- 
ment for  its  Legation.  The  Swedish  Minister,  Count 
Leuwenhaupt,  was  calling  to  see  me. 

"And  so  you  are  expecting  to  go  to  live  in  the  country, 
Mr.  Seward  ?  What  will  you  do  in  the  country  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.    Raise  cabbages,  probably. " 

"Ah,  yes; — that  is  the  conventional  phrase — raising 
cabbages.  It  reminds  me  of  our  Queen  of  Sweden.  One 
day,  she  said  to  her  ladies-in-waiting:  'Oh,  I  am  so  sick 
and  tired  of  these  endless  formalities  and  ceremonies  of 
Court  life !  I  think  sometimes  I  would  like  to  go  to  live 
in  the  country  and  raise  cabbages.' 

"But,  your  Majesty, "  said  one  of  the  ladies,  "is  it  not 
sometimes  lonesome, — this  living  in  the  country,  and 
raising  cabbages?" 

"  'No,  indeed, '  said  the  Queen;  'whoever  has  energy  and 
independence  enough  to  go  to  live  in  the  country  and  raise 
cabbages, — can  always  find  somebody  to  come  and  eat 
them.' " 

1881. 

President  Arthur  and  the  Yorktown  Centennial.  Among 
the  long  line  of  Sophomores,  which  we  Freshmen  were 
eagerly  scanning  on  our  first  morning  in  the  College  Chapel 
at  Schenectady  in  1845,  my  attention  was  drawn  to  a  tall 
fine-looking  young  man  directly  opposite.  On  inquiring 
who  he  was,  I  was  told  that  he  was  Chester  A.  Arthur, 
the  son  of  a  clergyman.  He  had  diligently  prepared  for 


448  The  Yorktown  Centennial 

college,  and  had  eked  out  his  scanty  funds  for  the  purpose 
by  teaching  school  at  the  same  time.  We  became  ac- 
quainted, and,  having  many  tastes  in  common,  became 
members  of  the  same  college  society. 

Arthur  was  a  popular  class-man  of  pleasing  address, 
fond  of  a  joke,  but  a  creditable  student,  and  was  especially 
active  in  college  "politics, "  as  we  used  to  call  our  contests 
for  elections.  Three  years  were  spent  together  at  Union. 
He  graduated  in  1848,  and  then  we  drifted  apart  to  differ- 
ent places  of  residence.  But  I  occasionally  heard  from 
him,  first  as  a  law-student,  then  as  a  successful  lawyer  in 
New  York,  and  then  as  the  head  of  his  firm.  And  always 
as  an  active  Republican. 

One  evening  in  1860,  just  before  his  inauguration, 
Governor  Morgan  called  at  Mr.  Weed's  to  consult  him 
about  the  composition  of  his  Military  Staff,  and  desired 
to  offer  me  a  position  on  it.  While  I  declined  the  honour 
for  myself,  I  was  glad  to  perceive  that  he  had  on  his  list 
the  name  of  my  former  college  friend,  Arthur.  He  was 
to  be  Quartermaster-General. 

It  was  supposed  that  in  time  of  peace  this  would  be 
merely  an  honorary  appointment.  But  with  the  out- 
break of  the  Civil  War,  soon  afterwards,  it  became  a 
highly  important  position,  and  General  Arthur's  services 
were  invaluable  in  forwarding  troops  to  the  front,  and  in 
providing  for  their  needs. 

After  the  war,  when  General  Grant  appointed  Arthur 
to  be  Collector  of  the  Port  of  New  York,  the  appointment 
was  generally  regarded  with  favour.  He  occupied  the 
post  for  about  six  years. 

It  is  needless  to  recount  here  the  discords  which  sub- 
sequently arose  in  the  Republican  Party, — the  unsuccess- 
ful attempt  to  renominate  General  Grant  for  a  third  time, 
and  the  Compromise  in  1880  by  which  Garfield  was 
nominated  for  President,  with  Arthur  for  Vice-President. 


The  Yorktown  Centennial  449 

They  were  elected,  but  had  only  a  brief  tenure  of  office, 
when  the  country  was  again  horrified  by  the  news  of  the 
assassination  of  President  Garfield,  by  a  madman. 

It  was  one  of  the  ironies  of  fate  that  Arthur,  always 
desirous  of  honourable  distinction  in  politics,  should  have 
had  the  highest  office  in  the  land  suddenly  thrust  upon 
him  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin. 

To  a  lady  who  came  to  greet  him,  soon  after  his  acces- 
sion, he  replied:  "No,  madam,  it  is  anything  but  a  subject 
of  congratulation.  It  was  a  hideous  crime  that  I  would 
have  given  worlds  to  prevent." 

In  1 88 1,  it  was  thought  proper  in  Washington  to  cele- 
brate the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  Battle  of  York- 
town,  the  last  great  victory  by  which  the  colonies  had 
assured  their  independence  of  Great  Britain.  Due  pre- 
parations were  made.  Naval  vessels  were  ordered  to 
Chesapeake  Bay.  Troops  were  marched  to  the  old 
battlefield.  Localities  of  the  old  siege  guns  used  by 
Washington  and  Lafayette  were  marked,  and  high  offi- 
cials of  the  Government  were  expected  to  take  part  in 
the  ceremonies. 

It  was  pre-eminently  fitting  to  invite  the  French 
Government  to  participate  in  this  celebration,  as  the 
success  of  the  Americans  in  the  struggle  and  the  victory 
had  so  largely  depended  upon  the  aid  given  at  that  time 
by  their  French  allies. 

The  French  Government  heartily  responded  to  Presi- 
dent Garfield's  invitation.  It  was  announced  that  a 
delegation  had  been  appointed  at  Paris  to  proceed  to 
Yorktown.  Among  its  members  were  several  bearing 
such  well-known  historic  names  as  Lafayette  and  Rocham- 
beau,  De  Grasse  and  Steuben,who  were  the  descendants 
of  the  illustrious  heroes  of  the  Revolution.  General 
Boulanger  was  named  as  the  head  of  the  delegation. 

As  the  French  delegates  would  doubtless  sail  by  one  of 

29 


450  The  Yorktown  Centennial 

the  French  liners,  to  New  York,  it  was  also  suggested  that 
a  Commission  be  appointed  by  the  State  of  New  York  to 
receive  them  on  landing,  and  finally  to  speed  them  on  their 
way  to  Washington. 

It  seldom  happens  that  elaborately  arranged  festivities 
take  place  in  the  order  intended,  without  some  break  or 
casualty.  The  tragic  note  in  life  too  often  reasserts  itself 
at  such  times.  While  the  European  visitors  were  on  their 
way  to  the  joyful  occasion,  the  President  who  had  invited 
them  was  lying  mortally  wounded,  on  his  death  bed.  The 
Capitol,  which  had  expected  to  greet  them  with  a  round  of 
balls  and  dinners,  was  plunged  in  deep  grief,  rendering  the 
idea  of  hilarity  an  unsuitable  mockery. 

When  we  of  the  New  York  Commission  met,  we  were 
confronted  with  this  new  and  changed  situation. 

Among  our  members  were  John  A.  King,  John  Austin 
Stevens,  Colonel  William  Jay,  General  James  B.  Varnum, 
General  Francis  Barlow,  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  Robert  R. 
Livingston,  W.  W.  Astor,  and  Lispenard  Stewart. 

An  unofficial  message  from  the  Secretary  of  State  at 
Washington  was  received,  intimating  that  the  longer  the 
stay  of  the  French  delegates  in  New  York  could  be  pro- 
tracted, the  greater  would  be  the  relief  experienced  at 
Washington,  in  this  unexpected  season  of  gloom.  Accord- 
ingly, we  did  our  best  to  make  their  visit  an  enjoyable 
one.  A  handsome  suite  of  apartments  was  prepared  for 
them  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  and  various  projects 
for  their  entertainment  were  planned  that  would  occupy 
two  or  three  weeks.  Fortunately  there  was  no  lack  of 
co-operation  in  these  efforts  on  the  part  of  State  and 
City  authorities,  local  organizations  and  societies,  and  the 
general  public.  "The  Spirit  of  '76"  was  again  aroused. 
Revolutionary  and  patriotic  emblems  and  pictures  and 
traditions  and  memories  were  the  fashion  of  the  hour. 

The  Commission  went  down  in  a  body  to  welcome  the 


The  Yorktown  Centennial  451 

French  visitors  when  the  steamer  Canada  bearing  them 
was  telegraphed.  A  steamboat  took  us  out  to  meet  her, 
and  her  progress  up  the  bay  was  greeted  by  salutes, 
displays  of  the  Tricolour  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  and 
complimentary  addresses  of  welcome. 

At  the  Battery  the  Seventh  Regiment  was  drawn  up  in 
line  to  escort  their  carriages  up  Broadway  to  the  hotel 
amid  the  cheering  crowd.  Visitors,  of  course  thronged 
there  to  greet  them. 

A  day  or  two  later,  Governor  Cornell  ordered  a  review 
of  the  First  Division  of  the  National  Guard,  which  they 
witnessed  from  a  stand  erected  near  the  Worth  Monu- 
ment. A  notable  feature  of  this  review  was  the  fact  that 
the  regiments  were  drawn  up  in  alternate  cross  streets,  so 
as  to  fall  into  line  in  due  succession.  As  each  regiment 
had  its  band,  the  discord  between  these  would  have  been 
bewildering,  but  for  the  happy  idea  that  all  should  play 
the  Marseillaise  at  the  same  time. 

On  another  day  we  invited  our  guests  to  make  an  excur- 
sion to  West  Point.  Two  frigates  were  furnished  by  the 
Government,  the  Vandalia  and  the  Kearsarge,  of  which  the 
nominal  commands  were  given  to  John  A.  King  and  my- 
self respectively.  The  day  was  a  fine  one  and  we  pointed 
out  to  our  guests  the  various  historic  localities  on  the  way. 
In  Haverstraw  Bay  we  gave  them  a  collation,  and  at  the 
close  of  it  called  them  up  on  deck  to  show  them  the 
"King's  Ferry."  This,  I  told  them,  marked  the  real 
beginning  of  the  Yorktown  campaign,  since  it  was  at  this 
point  the  French  and  American  armies  joined  forces,  and 
crossed  the  river,  prior  to  beginning  their  march  through 
New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and  Maryland,  toward  York- 
town.  At  General  Hancock's  suggestion  the  engine  was 
stopped,  and  the  National  Anthems  of  France  and  America 
were  played,  as  we  drifted  by  the  ancient  ferry.  At  West 
Point  they  were  welcomed  by  General  Howard,  who  was 


452  The  Yorktown  Centennial 

then  in  command  there.  A  review  of  the  Cadets  was 
followed  by  evening  festivities. 

Next  in  order  was  a  trip  to  Niagara  Falls.  The  Vander- 
bilts  furnished  a  well  appointed  private  car  for  the 
French  guests,  which  waited  there  for  them  and  brought 
them  back  after  two  or  three  days'  sojourn.  Part  of  the 
Commission  accompanied  them. 

The  others  remained  in  town  in  order  to  welcome  Baron 
Steuben,  who  was  coming  on  the  German  steamer,  with 
other  German  officers.  They  were  duly  installed  at  the 
hotel.  A  dinner  to  them  was  followed  by  a  review  at 
Union  Square  of  the  various  German  organizations.  In 
this  Mayor  Grace  took  part.  The  societies  numbered 
several  thousand,  and  some  of  the  German  regiments  were 
bearing  the  tattered  flags  of  the  Civil  War. 

By  the  time  the  French  delegation  had  returned  from 
Niagara,  preparations  were  well  under  way  for  the  great 
ball  which  was  to  close  the  series  of  entertainments  in 
New  York.  Needless  to  say  that  this  was  brilliant  and 
well  attended.  So  also  was  the  banquet  given  by  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce. 

Meanwhile  the  Washington  preparations  for  the  cele- 
bration at  Yorktown  were  making  progress.  But  now 
arose  a  new  complication,  or  the  expectation  of  one.  The 
whole  Diplomatic  Corps  were  of  course  to  be  invited  to 
attend.  But  would  the  British  consider  it  any  courtesy 
to  be  invited  to  attend  ceremonies  based  on  the  discom- 
fiture of  their  own  nation  ?  Would  they  not  rather  be  left 
out  ?  Or  would  they  consider  it  a  slight  to  be  left  out  on 
such  an  occasion?  The  Secretary  of  State  thought  this 
was  a  time  for  a  private  diplomatic  interview  with  the 
British  Minister.  He  was  politely  asked  whether  he  would 
prefer  to  have  an  invitation  or  not  for  his  legation.  He 
took  it  very  good-humouredly.  He  said:  "I  suppose  the 
British  were  there,  one  hundred  years  ago,  or  you  would 


Taxation  in  New  York  453 

have  had  nothing  to  celebrate.  Yes,  if  you  will  invite  us, 
we  will  all  come,  and  we  will  listen,  or  not  listen,  with  such 
equanimity  as  we  can,  to  your  recital  of  the  misdeeds  or 
misfortunes  of  our  ancestors. " 

Not  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy  or  magnanimity  was  the 
action  of  the  President.  After  all  the  speeches  had  been 
made  and  the  ceremonies  performed  and  concluded,  Presi- 
dent Arthur,  from  the  desk  of  the  flagship  gave  the  order 
for  the  British  ensign  to  be  raised  to  the  mainmast  and 
saluted  by  every  vessel  of  the  fleet,  saying:  "In  recogni- 
tion of  the  friendly  relations  so  long  and  so  happily  sub- 
sisting between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  in 
the  trust  and  confidence  of  peace  and  goodwill  between 
the  two  countries,  for  all  the  centuries  to  come,  and 
especially  as  a  mark  of  the  profound  respect  entertained 
by  the  American  people  for  the  illustrious  sovereign  and 
gracious  lady  who  sits  upon  the  British  throne." 

So  closed  the  Yorktown  celebration. 

Taxation  in  New  York.  Andrew  H.  Green  was  so  long 
prominent  in  the  history  and  government  of  the  city,  and 
so  wise  in  administrative  measures,  that  he  had  earned 
the  title  in  his  later  years  of  the  "Father  of  Greater  New 
York." 

My  last  interview  with  him  was  a  year  or  two  before  his 
tragic  death.  He  was  then,  I  think,  about  eighty-seven 
years  old,  and,  though  stooping  and  emaciated,  was  alert 
and  active. 

We  talked  of  old  times  and  people,  of  the  many  men,  in 
both  parties,  with  whom  he  had  been  associated, — of  the 
vast  improvements  that  had  taken  place, — of  the  careless 
or  corrupt  methods  of  finance, — of  the  spasmodic  attempts 
at  reform, — of  the  unrivalled  advantages  that  the  city 
possessed,  and  above  all  of  its  marvellous  growth. 

A  newspaper  lay  on  the  table  before  us,  the  whole  of 


454  Taxation  in  New  York 

one  of  its  broad  pages  being  filled  with  the  annual  report 
of  some  insurance  or  other  Company. 

"Tell  me,  Mr.  Green, "  I  said,  taking  up  that  big  paper, 
"something  which  you  can  comprehend,  but  which  I 
confess  I  cannot.  Here  is  this  great  corporation  which, 
by  its  report,  shows  it  is  well  managed  and  profitable  and 
pays  all  its  own  expenses. 

"Now,  the  city  of  New  York  is  a  corporation  which  has 
vastly  more  property  and  more  resources,  in  the  way  of 
real  estate,  streets,  franchises,  docks  and  wharves,  build- 
ings, rents,  licenses,  powers  and  privileges,  than  any  other 
corporation  possibly  can  have.  And  yet  it  cannot  pay  its 
own  expenses !  It  has  to  ask  the  individual  taxpayer  to  go 
down  into  his  pockets,  and  take  out  of  his  personal  earn- 
ings a  yearly  contribution,  in  order  to  keep  this  gigantic 
corporation  on  its  feet.  Why  should  not  the  city  of  New 
York  pay  its  own  expenses?  Why  should  the  individual 
taxpayer  be  called  upon  at  all?" 

He  looked  keenly  at  me,  as  I  spoke,  and  then  said:  "Mr. 
Seward,  you  are  right.  The  problem  is  one  that  I  have 
worked  over  many  years.  The  city  of  New  York  has 
given  away  more  then  enough  to  pay  its  expenses  many 
times  over.  But  the  citizens  of  New  York  don't  see  it. 
Either  because  they  are  too  careless,  or  too  ignorant,  or 
too  unpatriotic,  or  don't  care — whichever  it  is,  the  fact 
remains  they  don't  correct  it,  or  don't  want  to. " 

Here  occurred  an  interruption. 

A  clerk  touched  his  arm  and  said:  "Mr.  Green,  those 
Rapid  Transit  gentlemen  are  in  session  now,  and  they 
want  you  to  come  around  there  this  afternoon!  What 
shall  I  tell  them?" 

Mr.  Green  turned  to  me  and  said,  "There  is  an  instance 
of  what  I  was  just  saying.  Yes !  I  will  come  round  and 
try  to  do  my  best  to  stop  the  waste,  but  I  don't  know 
whether  I  can  accomplish  much. " 


Alaska  Revisited.     The  Inland  Passage    455 

July,  1902. 

Alaska  Revisited.  The  Inland  Passage.  Here  we  are 
once  more  in  Alaska ! 

We  are  on  board  the  steamer  Spokane,  and  steaming 
through  the  waters  of  the  famous  "Inland  Passage." 
Thirty-three  years  have  passed  since  we  were  here  before. 
What  are  the  changes  that  time  has  wrought  ?  Certainly, 
the  evergreen  forests  on  the  shores  come  down  to  the 
water's  edge  just  as  they  used  to  do.  The  "everlasting 
hills"  are  the  same.  The  distant  ranges  of  snow-capped 
mountains  have  not  changed  in  the  least. 

The  first  change  that  we  notice  is  that  a  "solemn  still- 
ness" no  longer  "broods  o'er  the  scene."  There  are  now 
indications  of  the  bustle  of  commerce.  Propellers  and 
passenger  steamers  meet  and  salute  us  with  steam  whistles. 
Some  vessels  are  passing  every  hour.  Buoys  and  beacons 
show  that  the  channel  has  been  surveyed  and  is  no  longer 
unknown.  Our  decks  and  spacious  "observation  room" 
are  occupied  by  our  passengers  eager  to  observe  the 
scenery  of  which  they  have  heard  so  much. 

We  have  cruised  all  day  through  the  waters  of  British 
Columbia,  and  have  now  traversed  the  "open  water"  of 
Queen  Charlotte  Sound.  Before  us  looms  up  the  "Dixon 
Entrance"  admitting  us  again  to  the  territory  of  the 
United  States.  No  especial  landmark  shows  where  the 
boundary  is,  but  we  gather  on  the  hurricane  deck,  to 
salute  the  flag  and  give  it  three  cheers,  in  token  that  we 
are  once  more  in  our  own  country. 

Captain  Lloyd  notified  us  that  if  we  have  any  letters  to 
mail  there  is  an  American  post-office  at  Ketchikan  where 
we  shall  stop  in  the  evening.  This  is  another  novelty. 
There  was  neither  post-office  nor  village  here  thirty-three 
years  ago.  Several  new  buildings  are  pointed  out  as 
"salmon  canneries." 


45 6  Wrangel 

Our  Passengers.  Our  party  consists  of  eleven  persons, 
guests  of  our  old  friend  Mr.  Samuel  R.  Thayer.  Mrs. 
Seward,  Miss  Barnes,  and  I  joined  the  others  at  Minnea- 
polis. They  were :  Warner  Miller  and  his  daughter,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  George  W.  Thayer  of  Rochester,  Mr.  Rufus  H. 
Thayer  of  Washington,  Mr.  Rodman  and  Mr.  Bradstreet 
of  Minneapolis.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel  Hill  joined  us  at 
Seattle.  To  Mr.  James  J.  Hill's  courtesy  we  are  indebted 
for  the  special  car,  which  brought  us  over  the  Great  North- 
ern Railroad. 

On  board  the  Spokane  there  are  about  a  hundred  other 
passengers  from  the  East  and  from  California — tourists, 
pleasure  seekers,  and  business  men.  It  sounds  odd  to 
have  the  latter  speak  glibly  of  different  points  in  Alaska, 
and  down  the  Yukon  Valley,  to  which  they  are  bound. 
When  we  recall  that  the  whole  territory  was  a  vast  un- 
explored region  only  thirty-three  years  ago,  it  is  difficult 
to  realize  that  these  towns  and  villages  have  a  real  exist- 
ence. 

Wrangel.  Here  is  Wrangel!  "Fort  Wrangel"  it  used 
to  be,  but  there  are  no  signs  of  the  frowning  guns  that  once 
guarded  "The  Passage"  at  this  point.  Instead  there  is  a 
substantial  dock  and  a  neat  village  along  the  shore.  We 
land,  and  Mr.  Thayer  and  I  set  out  to  explore  the  place. 
Meeting  a  well-dressed  man  on  the  street,  Mr.  Thayer 
inquires  "Are  you  a  resident  here?" 

"Yes, "  is  the  reply,  "and  have  been  for  several  years." 

"What  has  become  of  the  old  Fort?" 

"It  used  to  be  out  there,  on  the  promontory,  but  the 
Government  abandoned  it  sometime  ago,  not  needing  it 
any  longer." 

"And  the  Indian  lodges,  what  became  of  them?" 

"Oh!  after  the  Fort  was  abandoned,  the  Indians  came 
away  too;  they  all  moved  into  town. " 


Sitka  457 

"Rather  an  unruly  lot,  weren't  they?" 

"Yes,  but  that  was  when  they  were  uncivilized;  they 
are  all  good  citizens  now." 

"What  do  they  do?" 

' '  They  all  have  their  various  trades.  The  children  go  to 
school,  and  they  to  church.  Bible  classes  and  Christian 
Endeavour  are  favourite  occupations  with  them  now. 
Some  of  them  are  very  well  to  do. " 

"Where  do  they  live?" 

"Oh,  everywhere.  That  double  cottage  with  a  rose 
vine  over  the  door  belongs  to  an  Indian.  That  motor  boat, 
in  the  bay,  belongs  to  another." 

Much  enlightened,  we  resume  our  voyage. 

Sitka.  Sitka!  This  is  indeed  familiar  ground.  The 
towering  mountains,  the  magnificent  harbour  with  its 
clustering  islands,  are  all  that  they  used  to  be.  We  iden- 
tify Mount  Edgecumbe  and  others.  But  the  town  itself 
has  spread  along  the  shore  in  both  directions.  And  where 
is  the  Indian  village? 

"That  is  it,  along  the  north  shore." 

A  row  of  neat  white  houses  like  those  of  a  New  Eng- 
land village  has  taken  the  place  of  the  old  lodges  and 
wigwams. 

We  land,  and  proceed  up  the  well  remembered  streets, 
with  the  Greek  Church  at  the  head  of  one.  We  inquire  for 
Governor  Brady's  house.  We  find  he  is  not  at  home,  but 
we  make  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Brady  and  her  sister. 
The  Governor  is  making  his  usual  summer  tour  at  the 
north.  The  ladies  invite  us  in,  and  then  sally  out  with  us, 
to  show  us  the  changes  that  have  come  over  Sitka  in 
thirty-three  years. 

The  Baranoff  Castle  on  the  high  rock  is  gone,  and  in 
place  of  it  stands  a  modern  structure  which  we  are  told  is 
the  Agricultural  College.  There  are  numerous  churches, 


458  Sitka 

Presbyterian,  Episcopalian,  Swedish,  and  others,  with 
industrial  and  other  schools  attached  to  nearly  all  of  them. 
A  large  edifice  is  the  Museum,  founded  by  Dr.  Sheldon 
Jackson,  whom  we  are  sorry  not  to  see,  as  he  is  gone,  like 
the  Governor,  on  a  trip  to  the  north  connected  with  his 
educational  and  missionary  work. 

In  this  Museum  are  many  interesting  carvings  of  the 
Hydahs,  implements  and  weapons  of  the  Thlinkets,  the 
Kalosh,  and  the  Chilkats,  canoes  of  the  several  tribes, 
baidarkas  of  the  Esquimaux,  and  a  reindeer  sledge  like 
those  of  Lapland.  It  is  fortunate  that  the  Doctor  had  the 
foresight  to  commence  this  collection  while  it  is  still 
possible,  for  the  Indian  relics  will  be  rapidly  disappearing 
with  the  progress  of  time.  We  could  spend  hours  in  this 
Museum,  if  we  had  them,  but  our  time  is  limited  in  Sitka 
now. 

Out  in  the  streets  again,  we  find  some  of  the  old  Russian 
houses,  built  of  squared  logs,  are  standing;  but  all  the 
new  buildings  are  modern  frame  structures.  There  are 
several  tasteful  country  residences,  which  are  occupied 
by  their  owners  or  visitors  from  the  south.  Mrs.  Brady 
takes  us  out  to  a  park,  in  the  suburbs,  which  the  authori- 
ties have  decorated  with  the  tallest  and  most  massive  of 
totem  poles.  We  notice  that  the  roads  are  straightened 
and  that  there  are  no  animals  running  in  them,  improve- 
ments due,  as  Mrs.  Brady  tells  us,  to  the  efforts  of  the 
Village  Improvement  Society. 

On  our  way  back,  we  come  across  the  school  children, 
of  whom  there  seem  to  be  several  hundred.  They  are 
neatly  dressed,  and  for  the  most  part  with  air  and  com- 
plexion like  other  school  children  in  the  northern  States, 
though  occasionally  the  darker  hue  of  some  of  them  de- 
notes their  Esquimau  or  Indian  parentage. 

We  stopped  to  converse  with  some  of  them,  and  to  recall 
some  of  the  phrases  of  the  Chinook  jargon,  which  we  took 


Sitka  459 

some  pains  to  learn  several  years  ago,  as  it  was  then  the 
only  mode  of  communication  in  vogue  in  the  Territory. 
The  youngsters  look  at  us  with  open  eyes  and  shake  their 
heads.  One  of  the  missionary  teachers  laughingly  says: 
"They  know  good  English,  and  do  not  know  the  Chinook 
jargon, — some  have  not  heard  of  it,  and  those  who  have, 
consider  it  'low  down  talk.' ' 

Pausing  in  front  of  a  Russian  house,  I  say:  "This  is  Mr. 
Dodge's  house,  where  we  spent  a  fortnight  thirty-three 
years  ago.  It  is  still  standing,  though  I  do  not  know  its 
present  occupants.  Let  us  consider  it  our  '  old  homestead ' 
in  Sitka,  and  take  a  photograph  of  it  and  ourselves." 
While  engaged  in  this,  several  townspeople  gather  around 
us  and  I  interrogate  them:  "Were  any  of  you  here,  thirty- 
three  years  ago?  I  want  to  see  the  oldest  inhabitant." 
But  no  one  would  own  to  such  long  residence.  One  man 
says:  "I  came  here  twenty-eight  years  ago  and  I  thought 
I  was  the  oldest  inhabitant." 

At  the  Greek  Church  we  found  everything  looking  as 
of  old,  except  that  it  was  newly  renovated,  cleaned,  and 
repaired,  which  the  custodian  added  was  due  to  the  Bishop 
and  the  Government  at  St.  Petersburg.  He  displayed  with 
pardonable  pride  the  gorgeous  vestments  worn  by  the 
dignitaries  of  the  church. 

He  furthermore  informed  us  that  he  claimed  the  dis- 
tinction of  having  neither  been  born  nor  naturalized  in 
the  United  States,  but  was  nevertheless  a  citizen.  He  had 
been  transferred  by  the  treaty  of  purchase  of  the  Territory, 
which  contained  a  clause  saying  that  any  Russian  who 
chose  to  remain  should  thereby  be  considered  entitled  to 
the  privileges  of  American  citizenship. 

An  hour  or  two  was  spent  at  the  Governor's  looking  at  a 
collection  of  water-colour  pictures  of  Alaskan  localities, 
and  chatting  over  the  changes  and  prospects  of  the  Terri- 
tory. We  noted  that  the  flowers  that  were  brought  us 


460  The  Tredwell  Mine 

in  profusion,  from  different  gardens,  were  much  like  those 
of  our  own  garden  at  home. 

On  our  way  to  the  steamer  we  found  some  of  our  fellow 
passengers  bargaining  with  a  group  of  Indian  women, 
blanketed  as  of  old,  who  were  selling  curios.  Here  were 
neat  and  pretty  little  totem  poles,  canoes  and  carvings, 
and  weapons  fresh  and  newly  painted,  but  all  of  miniature 
size, — in  fact,  convenient  for  packing  in  trunks  or  dress- 
suit  cases.  Evidently  these  were  for  tourists,  not  for 
Indian  use.  The  story  was  told,  but  we  do  not  vouch  for 
the  truth  of  it,  that  the  supply  from  Indian  sources  being 
insufficient  to  meet  the  demand  from  travellers,  an  enter- 
prising firm  in  Connecticut  had  taken  the  manufacture  in 
hand,  and  sent  them  on  to  Alaska  for  the  Indians  to  sell. 

Glaciers.  The  tossing  cakes  of  ice  around  us  this 
morning  are  of  a  brilliant  blue  colour,  a  phenomenon  that 
no  one  seems  able  to  explain.  These  are  from  the  Taku 
Glacier.  We  inquire  if  we  shall  see  the  Muir  Glacier.  The 
captain  says,  "Yes,  but  not  too  near,  as  the  falling  masses 
of  ice  sometimes  make  it  dangerous  for  a  vessel  in  the 
vicinity. "  But  we  get  a  fine  view  of  it. 

Then  the  much  mooted  question  comes  up :  whether  the 
glaciers,  on  the  whole,  are  receding  or  not?  The  general 
opinion  appears  to  be  that  some  certainly  have  receded, 
while  others  apparently  have  remained  unchanged. 

The  Tredwell  Mine.  The  steamer  comes  to  a  pause,  in 
the  midst  of  a  deafening  din  from  the  shore,  at  the  next 
landing.  The  captain  shouts  out  that  this  is  "Douglas 
Island, "  and  that  the  noise  we  hear  is  made  by  the  trip- 
hammers of  the  "Tredwell  Gold  Mine. " 

We  debark  to  look  at  the  machinery  of  the  stamp  mill 
from  a  respectful  distance.  We  are  told  that  this  is  the 
largest  stamp  mill  in  the  world.  Although  the  ore  is  of 


Skagway  461 

low  grade,  the  company  is  said  to  be  satisfied  if  they  can 
get  three  or  four  dollars  in  gold  from  a  ton.  Yet  some- 
times it  yields  two  or  three  times  as  much. 

Already  they  have  thus  pulverized  a  considerable  part 
of  one  mountain.  But  there  look  to  be  plenty  more 
mountains  of  the  same  sort  standing  close  at  hand. 

Juneau.  "  It  is  a  pity  that  we  shall  get  to  Juneau  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,"  say  we.  But  the  middle  of  the 
night  turns  out  not  to  be  dark,  or  even  dusk,  in  Alaska 
at  this  season.  As  the  steamer  makes  the  landing  at 
eleven  o'clock,  the  town  is  revealed  to  us  in  very  good 
daylight;  the  townspeople  muster  on  the  wharf  to  inquire 
for  news,  or  to  greet  friends. 

We,  the  passengers,  are  equally  eager  to  see  the  town. 
So  we  proceed  up  the  street,  and  find  places  of  business 
open,  and  people  going  to  and  fro  as  if  it  were  noon  instead 
of  midnight.  We  ramble  through  various  streets,  one  of 
which  we  are  informed  is  "Seward  Street,"  and  some  of 
which  seem  to  be  built  on  piers  or  piles  in  the  water. 

This  is  a  growing  town,  and  its  transition  state  is  some- 
what bewildering  to  the  observer.  All  of  the  buildings  are 
frame  edifices,  and  some  of  them  have  been  very  hastily 
erected.  The  townspeople,  however,  have  great  expecta- 
tions, and  high  hopes.  They  say  that  here  was  the  first 
discovery  of  gold.  They  confidently  look  forward  to  its 
becoming  the  capital  of  the  Territory. 

Skagway.  Skagway  is  the  ultima  thule  of  our  navigable 
voyage.  As  we  approach  it  up  the  broad  reaches  of  the 
Lynn  Channel,  we  see  its  long  piers  pushing  out  into  the 
water.  Signs  of  business  activity  on  them  prove  it  to  be  a 
commercial  port  of  importance. 

Here  begins  the  White  Pass  Railroad,  the  first  in  the 
Territory.  We  land  and  walk  up  the  street  and  find  the 


462  The  White  Pass  Railroad 

rails  laid  in  the  centre  of  it.  Freight  and  passenger  cars 
are  standing  on  the  track. 

We  recall  how  within  our  own  remembrance  there  was 
no  trail  over  the  mountains  and  into  the  wilderness. 
Klakautch,  the  Chilkat  Chief,  was  then  asked  about  it, 
and  we  learned  from  him  that  there  were  Indians  on  the 
other  side  of  the  mountains,  who  held  intercourse  and 
traffic  in  furs  with  the  Chilkats,  but  who  were  not  allowed 
to  come  down  to  the  coast.  He  made  a  map  of  the  trail 
in  Indian  fashion,  on  a  bearskin,  indicating  the  trail  by 
two  rows  of  footprints  running  over  the  mountain. 

"Is  Klakautch  still  living?"  is  inquired. 

"No,"  is  the  answer,  "but  his  family  are  well  known, 
and  his  son  has  a  position  in  the  Custom  House,  yonder." 

The  White  Pass  Railroad.  Was  there  ever  such  a  daring 
piece  of  engineering  as  this  White  Pass  Railroad  ?  Begin- 
ning on  the  level  of  the  street,  and  running  smoothly  for  a 
mile  or  two,  it  gradually  climbs  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
Then  it  speeds  toward  precipitous  cliffs,  around  dizzy 
curves,  and  on  the  edge  of  unfathomable  abysses,  until 
you  imagine  the  train  cannot  possibly  find  a  foothold 
among  the  jagged  rocks  that  beset  it  on  every  side.  The 
train  comes  to  a  sudden  stop  in  the  midst  of  this  chaotic 
scene.  We  are  looking  where  to  jump  and  wondering 
whether  there  is  anything  to  jump  on,  when  the  conductor 
blandly  informs  us,  "  It  is  all  right.  We  always  stop  here, 
in  order  to  give  the  ladies  an  opportunity  to  take  a  snap- 
shot with  their  cameras. " 

Resuming  our  tortuous  course  and  steadily  going  on,  and 
up,  at  last  we  reach  a  level  plateau,  and  are  told  this  is  the 
summit  of  the  Pass.  It  is  also  the  boundary  line  between 
Alaska  and  British  America.  Two  little  custom  houses, 
one  for  Great  Britain  and  one  for  the  United  States,  mark 
the  frontier,  each  surmounted  by  its  national  flag. 


The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute         463 

Looking  off  toward  the  north,  we  see  the  ranges  of 
mountains  gradually  diminishing  in  height,  until  the  valley 
of  the  Yukon  is  reached.  Some  of  our  passengers  who  have 
.business  at  Dawson,  or  are  expecting  to  take  one  of  the 
steamboats  down  the  Yukon  River,  now  continue  on  the 
railway.  We  go  back  on  our  train,  and  on  the  way  Mr. 
Brackett  points  out  the  old  wagon  road,  which  was  made 
at  great  trouble  and  expense,  in  the  time  of  the  first  rush 
of  miners  and  prospectors.  Now  it  is  abandoned  and 
superseded  by  the  railroad.  The  railroad  is  said  to  be 
highly  prosperous,  having  now  a  practical  monopoly  of  the 
traffic  to  and  from  the  gold  region. 

The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute.  If  it  be  true  that  the 
Americans  for  many  years  remained  singularly  incredulous 
and  indifferent  to  the  value  of  the  great  Territory  that  we 
purchased  from  Russia  in  1867,  it  cannot  be  said  that  our 
Canadian  neighbours  have  shared  in  that  feeling.  From 
the  first,  they  have  shown  an  appreciation  of  it,  and  once 
or  twice  the  restless  and  reckless  element  of  their  people 
have  manifested  a  covetous  desire  to  get  hold  of  a  part  of 
it,  and  add  it  to  the  Canadian  Dominion. 

In  1902,  when  visiting  Alaska,  we  found  some  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Skagway  seriously  alarmed  lest  they  should 
be  practically  "gobbled  up"  by  the  Canadians,  who  were 
putting  forward  a  claim  to  own  their  harbour  and  a  con- 
siderable slice  of  their  Territory. 

Returning  home,  I  found  that  the  movement  had  taken 
such  definite  shape,  that  maps  were  prepared  and  spread 
abroad  from  Ottawa,  by  which  it  appeared  that  we  not 
only  had  no  claim  to  Skagway  or  Dyea,  but  that  Canada 
rightfully  owned  all  of  the  mainland  on  the  Lynn  Canal, 
and  that  our  boundary  only  took  in  part  of  the  islands  of 
the  sea!  I  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Tribune,  calling  public 
attention  to  the  fact,  as  follows : 


464         The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute 

"A  MENACE  FROM  CANADA 

"  Mr.  Seward  Believes  that  the  Alaskan  Boundary  Dispute 
Endangers  International  Good  Feeling. 

"Very  few  people  either  in  England  or  the  United 
States  seem  to  comprehend  the  'true  inwardness'  of  the 
so-called  'Alaska  Boundary  Dispute.'  That  is  unfortunate, 
for  it  contains  the  germ  of  a  grave  national  danger.  The 
average  newspaper  reader  supposes  it  to  be  a  dispute  over 
a  few  acres  or  square  miles  of  wild  land,  perhaps  frozen,  on 
either  side  of  an  imaginary  line.  But  it  is  not  a  boundary 
dispute  of  that  sort.  The  boundary  was  established  years 
ago  by  treaties  in  which  both  nations  took  part.  What  the 
Canadian  schemers  are  pushing  for  now  is  'an  outlet  to 
tidewater '  by  means  of  a  harbour  on  the  Lynn  Canal. 

"What  is  the  Lynn  Canal?  It  is  a  great  estuary,  broad 
and  deep,  like  the  lower  Hudson  or  the  Delaware.  It 
traverses  Southern  Alaska  and  is  the  chief  artery  of  com- 
merce. It  is  the  thoroughfare  by  which  all  traders,  miners 
and  travellers  reach  the  valley  of  the  Yukon,  unless  they 
make  a  two-thousand-mile  voyage  around  by  the  ocean. 

"What  is  the  harbour  that  the  Canadian  schemers 
covet?  It  is  one  of  the  most  important  strategic  points  on 
our  Pacific  Coast.  It  is  a  deep,  wide,  semicircular  basin, 
safe  in  all  weathers,  open  to  navigation  all  the  year  round, 
with  easy  access  to  the  sea,  large  enough  to  float  not  only 
trading  craft,  but  the  cruisers  and  battleships  of  the 
British  navy.  It  is  surrounded  by  mountain  heights  which, 
when  fortified,  would  render  it  impregnable.  In  a  word, 
what  they  want  is  to  establish  a  naval  and  commercial 
port  for  Great  Britain,  resembling  Gibraltar  or  Aden — and 
to  establish  it  in  the  heart  of  an  American  Territory,  at 
the  head  of  its  inland  navigation!  The  power  owning 
such  a  stronghold  might  well  claim  to  dominate  the  North 


The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute          465 

Pacific.  It  would  cut  Alaska  Territory  in  two  parts,  with 
British  forts  and  custom  houses  between,  controlling  their 
intercourse  with  each  other  and  with  the  outside  world. 
Compared  with  such  a  stronghold  Esquimault  or  Halifax 
is  of  minor  consequence.  That  port  is  the  objective  point 
that  Canadian  schemers  are  working  for.  That  is  what 
they  hope  to  extort  from  us  by  threats  or  cajolery.  They 
know  what  they  are  about ;  apparently  we  do  not ;  at  least 
they  hope  so.  So  they  muddle  the  question  with  specious 
pretences  of  harmless  purpose,  by  which  to  'outwit  the 
Yankees.' 

"When  this  monstrous  demand,  without  a  shadow  of 
foundation,  was  first  put  forward  it  brought  to  a  sudden 
check  the  work  of  the  Joint  High  Commission  to  settle 
questions  between  Canada  and  the  United  States.  If 
persisted  in  it  will  do  more  than  that.  It  will  tend  to 
break  up  the  present  era  of  good  feeling  between  the  two 
branches  of  the  English-speaking  race — an  era  so  full  of 
promise  for  both  nations  and  for  the  whole  civilized  world. 

"The  whole  'claim'  is  so  preposterous  and  absurd  that 
it  would  hardly  be  credible  if  we  did  not  know  how  silly 
and  blind  to  their  own  interests  great  governments  may 
sometimes  be.  The  Canadian  'statesmen'  who  are  press- 
ing it  are  blind  leaders  of  the  blind.  They  are  like  children 
playing  with  fire.  They  do  not  realize  the  far-reaching 
consequences  of  the  conflagration  they  are  trying  to  kindle. 
For  it  is  not  to  be  believed  that  the  American  people, 
when  roused  to  an  understanding  of  the  question,  are 
ever  going  to  acquiesce  in  the  construction  of  a  Gibraltar 
in  their  own  waters  by  any  foreign  power.  American 
patience  is  great  and  American  good  nature  is  proverbial, 
but  even  these  have  limits. 

"FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD. 

"  Montrose-on-Hudson, 
November,  1902." 
30 


466         The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute 

This  letter  was  widely  copied  and  commented  upon, 
especially  in  the  northwestern  States.  Soon  the  subject 
became  one  of  general  discussion  by  the  press.  Ulti- 
mately it  became  a  topic  of  debate  in  Congress.  Both 
Governments  perceived  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  take 
action  in  regard  to  it. 

A  semi-official  answer  was  published  by  the  Government 
at  Ottawa,  arguing  that,  as  there  were  conflicting  claims 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  the  subject 
would  be  a  proper  one  for  arbitration.  To  this  I  prepared 
an  equally  elaborate  reply. 

The  Tribune  said:  "Three  noteworthy  contributions 
to  the  Alaska  boundary  discussion  have  recently  appeared 
in  our  columns.  These  were  a  brief  statement  of  the 
American  case  by  Mr.  Frederick  W.  Seward,  a  reply  by 
Mr.  F.  C.  T.  O'Hara,  and  a  rejoinder  by  Mr.  Seward. 
These  letters  were  weighty  with  authority,  for  Mr. 
Seward,  the  son  and  official  aide  of  the  Secretary  of  State 
who  negotiated  the  Alaska  purchase,  is  a  past  master  of 
the  American  side  of  the  controversy,  while  Mr.  O'Hara,  as 
Secretary  to  a  Canadian  Cabinet  officer,  may  be  supposed 
to  be  an  adequate  exponent  of  the  Canadian  side.  Between 
the  two,  our  readers  will  doubtless  have  judged  for  them- 
selves. That  the  decision  of  the  vast  majority  of  Ameri- 
cans is  on  Mr.  Seward's  side,  is  beyond  doubt. " 

Frequent  conferences  were  now  held  between  Secretary 
Hay  and  the  British  Minister  at  Washington.  The  final 
outcome  of  their  deliberations  was  the  agreement  to  hold  a 
"Joint  Alaska  Boundary  Commission"  during  the  coming 
season. 

The  Commission  was  duly  held — its  official  title  was, 
"The  Alaskan  Boundary  Tribunal. "  Six  members  com- 
posed it,  three  for  each  side.  The  American  members 
were  ex-Secretary  Elihu  Root,  and  Senators  Henry  Cabot 
Lodge  and  George  Turner.  Two  Canadians,  Sir  Louis 


The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute         467 

Amale  Jette,  Lieutenant-Governor  of  Quebec,  and  Allen 
Bristol  Aylesworth,  one  of  his  Majesty's  Counsel.  The 
British  Government  reserved  to  itself  the  right  to  appoint 
the  third  member,  and  it  selected  for  that  place  Lord 
Alverstone,  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  England,  a  jurist  of  such 
wide  experience  and  unimpeachable  integrity  that  it  was 
felt  no  one  could  question  his  impartiality. 

The  sessions  were  held  in  1903.  The  case  for  the  United 
States  was  very  elaborately  prepared  by  Mr.  John  W. 
Foster,  ex-Secretary  of  State,  and  the  chief  argument  for 
it  was  presented  by  Elihu  Root. 

When  the  Tribunal  rendered  its  decision,  in  October, 
Lord  Alverstone  took  the  same  ground  as  the  Americans, 
that  the  true  boundary  was  that  laid  down  in  the  Treaty 
of  Purchase  in  1867.  The  two  Canadian  members  adhered 
to  their  claim,  but  the  decision  of  the  majority  of  four  to 
two  was  in  favour  of  the  American  side. 

Perhaps  my  comment  on  the  decision  may  have  interest 
enough  to  warrant  its  insertion  here : 

"THE  ALASKAN  DECISION 
"  F.  W.  Seward  Says  Both  Nations  are  to  be  Congratulated. 

"Both  nations  have  reason  for  congratulation. 

"The  Americans  are  to  be  congratulated  that  their  title 
is  reaffirmed  and  no  longer  disputed  as  to  the  region  which 
they  bought  from  Russia,  and  which  has  been  held  and 
occupied  by  them  and  the  Russians  before  them  ever 
since  the  day  of  its  first  discovery. 

"The  British  are  to  be  congratulated  that  they  did  not 
win  their  contention,  nor  even  stubbornly  insist  upon  it 
to  the  point  of  a  'deadlock.'  Their  wisdom,  tact,  and 
statesmanship  were  manifested  through  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice,  though  his  two  Canadian  associates  seem  to  have 
been  unable  to  follow  him.  To  have  obtained  possession 
of  a  harbour  and  town  built,  owned,  and  occupied  by 


468          The  Alaska  Boundary  Dispute 

Americans  for  thirty  years  would  have  been  to  England 
a  most  unprofitable  victory.  Skagway  would  then  have 
been  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  what 
Strassburg  has  been  between  France  and  Germany,  a 
perpetually  rankling  thorn.  It  would  have  put  an  end  to 
that  international  friendship  on  which  both  nations  are 
building  such  high  hopes. 

"It  was  natural,  perhaps,  that  the  provincial  ambition 
of  the  Canadians  should  have  been  captivated  by  the 
fancy  of  getting  one  of  our  harbours  for  their  outlet  from 
Klondike  to  the  sea,  and,  perhaps,  natural  that  they 
should  be  blind  to  the  consequences  of  their  own  project. 
But  the  idea  was  largely  a  fanciful  one. 

"During  long  centuries  it  has  been  the  habit  of  nations 
to  hold  on  to  whatever  they  could  grasp  by  fair  means  or 
foul  until  compelled  to  disgorge  by  force  or  the  fear  of  it. 
It  has  been  reserved  for  two  nations  which  are  but  two 
branches  of  one  great  race  to  lift  international  dealing  to  a 
higher  plane  and  to  seek  to  decide  questions  in  accordance 
with  justice  and  equity,  regardless  of  national  sentiment 
or  prejudice.  We  have  proved  it  thrice.  In  the  Trent 
case,  the  Alabama  Claims  case,  and  now  in  the  Alaska 
Boundary  case,  we  have  shown  that  we  can  afford  to  relin- 
quish to  each  other  anything  not  justly  belonging  to  us, 
whether  prisoners,  land,  or  money.  Two  nations  actuated 
by  this  disposition,  and  ready  to  carry  it  into  practical 
effect,  can  hardly  be  dragged  into  war,  since  they  them- 
selves are  their  own  high  court  of  equity.  The  Alaska 
Boundary  decision  seems,  therefore,  a  guarantee  of  per- 
petual peace  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States, 
and  that  is  a  step  onward  in  the  march  of  progress  and 
civilization  worthy  of  the  opening  of  the  twentieth  century. 

"FREDERICK  W.  SEWARD. 

"  Montrose-on-Hudson, 
October  21,  1903." 


Hudson  Centennial  Celebrations        469 

Hudson  Centennial  Celebrations.  When  one  hun- 
dred years  had  elapsed  after  Hudson's  discovery  of 
the  river,  the  people  of  the  province  of  New  York 
did  not  hold  any  celebration.  They  were  too  much 
absorbed  in  their  own  doings  and  those  of  their  Colonial 
Governors,  to  bestow  much  thought  on  those  of  Henry 
Hudson. 

But  when  a  second  century  had  rolled  by,  New  York 
had  become  an  independent  State  and  a  part  of  the 
Federal  Union.  Then  the  anniversary  of  the  discovery  was 
deemed  worthy  of  celebration.  Under  the  auspices  of 
the  then  newly  organized  Historical  Society,  orations  were 
delivered  at  the  City  Hall,  a  banquet  followed  at  the  City 
Hotel,  at  which  Governor  Tompkins  presided  and  Mayor 
DeWitt  Clinton  was  an  invited  guest.  Especial  stress  was 
laid  upon  the  fact  that  to  Henry  Hudson  they  also  owed 
the  best  dishes  of  the  feast, — the  oysters  and  fish  that  he 
discovered  in  the  river,  the  wild  ducks  and  pigeons  that 
he  found  flying  over  it,  and  the  Indian  corn  and  "succo- 
tash" that  he  found  growing  on  its  banks. 

Simeon  DeWitt,  who  was  then  Surveyor-General, 
proposed  the  toast : 

"May  our  successors,  a  century  hence,  celebrate  the 
same  great  event,  which  we  this  day  commemorate. " 

When  Simeon  De  Witt  offered  that  toast,  he  was  a  true 
prophet.  But  his  foresight  did  not  extend  as  far  as  to 
know  that  the  next  anniversary  would  be  a  double  one, 
and  that  the  hero  who  would  divide  its  honours  with 
Henry  Hudson  would  be  the  young  artist-inventor,  Robert 
Fulton,  who  married  the  niece  of  his  friend  Chancellor 
Livingston,  and  who  had  just  devised  a  new-fangled  craft 
to  go  without  oars  or  sails,  but  belching  fire  and  smoke! 
Indeed,  it  was  one  of  the  jests  at  the  dinner  table,  that  a 
frightened  farmer,  looking  over  the  edge  of  the  Palisades, 
was  asked  what  it  was  that  he  saw.  He  said  he  did  not 


470        Hudson  Centennial  Celebrations 

know,  but  he  believed  "it  was  the  Devil  on  his  way  to 
Albany,  on  a  saw-mill!" 

When  the  next  hundred  years  had  rolled  away,  the  tri- 
centennial  "Hudson-Fulton  Celebration"  of  1909  occurred. 
There  is  no  need  to  relate  here  who  organized  and  con- 
ducted it,  or  to  recount  its  sayings  and  doings.  Are  they 
not  all  fully  and  faithfully  set  down,  recorded,  and  illus- 
trated in  the  two  large  volumes  of  the  Report  to  the 
Legislature,  prepared  by  Dr.  Edward  Hagaman  Hall,  the 
Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Commission?  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  the  celebration  was  a  memorable  one,  a  hundred  and 
sixty  miles  long,  and  sixteen  days  broad, — and  that  it  was 
worthy  of  the  great  events  it  commemorated.  Many 
thousands  participated  in  it,  and  millions  witnessed  it 
from  the  banks  of  the  historic  stream. 


EPILOGUE 

History  and  Memory.  Napoleon  at  Saint  Helena  was 
reading  over  a  file  of  newspapers,  just  received  by  an 
English  ship. 

"Las  Cases, "  said  he,  to  his  secretary,  "we  have  always 
supposed  that  history  was  the  record  of  past  events.  I 
perceive  it  is  not  so.  It  is  only  a  compilation  of  the 
statements  given  out  concerning  those  events. " 

This  philosophic  truth  is  worth  bearing  in  mind,  by 
readers  of  history,  and  writers  of  it.  But  what  then? 
Oral  tradition  is  discredited,  because  human  memories 
are  deemed  unreliable,  unless  corroborated  by  some  sort  of 
documentary  evidence.  If  the  documentary  evidence 
cannot  be  relied  on,  what  can? 

The  simple  fact  seems  to  be  this.  Memory  supplies  us 
with  successive  pictures  of  past  scenes.  Like  the  photo- 
graph she  aims  to  be  exactly  truthful,  and,  like  the  photo- 
graph, her  pictures  are  often  more  impressive  than  the 
reality,  because  minor  details  and  outside  surroundings 
are  excluded.  But  that  is  Memory's  limit.  Of  dates  and 
names  she  is  proverbially  careless,  and  her  worst  errors  are 
made  when  she  tries  to  reconcile  her  own  vivid  impres- 
sions with  somebody  else's  hearsay  testimony. 

Let  whoso  would  write  or  read  reminiscences,  govern 
himself  accordingly. 


47i 


INDEX 


Abdul  Aziz,  382 

Abdul  Medjid,  382 

Abolition,  69 

Academy  of  Music  at  N.  Y.,  219 

Academy  of  the  Visitation,  The,  81 

Acapulco,  414 

Acquia  Creek,  229,  232,  266 

Active,  Steamship,  383 

Aculzingo,  417 

Adams,  Charles  Francis,  69,  180 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  56,  141,  142, 

359 

Aden,  The  port  of,  300 

jEsop's  Fables,  32 

Alabama,  The,  214,  250,  468 

Alabama  claims  case,  468 

Alameda,  The,  411 

Alaska,  the  story  of,  356;  expedition 
to,  357;  boundary  disputes,  359; 
Treaty  of  Purchase,  360;  transfer 
of,  364;  the  "Great  Tyee"  in,  383; 
purchase  of,  422,  439,  455;  boun- 
dary dispute,  463 

Albany,  journey  to,  2;  Governor's 
Mansion  at,  24;  Evening  Journal, 
84,  93,  no;  life  in,  95;  Kossuth  in, 
98;  diplomats  at,  237;  capitol  at, 
430 

Aleutia,  364 

Alexandria,  Confederates  at,  156; 
the  army  near,  206;  peace  at,  229 

Alice  Vivian,  The,  269 

Almy,  Mrs.,  330 

Altamirano,  Sefior,  413 

Alverstone,  Lord,  467 

Alvord,  Lieut.-Gov.,  430 

Amistad  slaves,  The,  81 

Amory,  Colonel,  51 

Andre",  Major,  Hanging  of,  8 

Andrew,  The  case  of  the  negro,  1 13 

Annapolis,  7ist  Regiment  at,  159 

Anticosti,  Voyage  to,  115,  120 

Antietam,  Victory  at,  212 


Antillon,  Governor,  405 

Apam,  415 

Apia  harbour,  437,  441 

Arabia,  Coffee  of,  295 

Arabian  Nights,  The,  288 

Arago,  The,  197 

Archer,  Sheriff,  49 

Argus,  The,  31 

Arkansas  Post,  Capture  of,  212 

Army,  Losses  in  the,  207 

Army  of  the  Potomac,  at  Richmond, 
175,  206,  208,  212,  228,  237; 
space  occupied  by  the,  232;  re- 
organization of,  250 

Army  of  Virginia,  The,  206,  251 

Arnold,  Benedict,  8 

Arroyo  Sarco,  408 

Arsenal  Wharf,  The,  228,  236 

Arthur,  President,  447,  449 

Ashburton,  Lord,  141 

Asiatic  Cipango,  The,  302 

Assassins,  The,  attack  on  Seward, 
259;  murder  of  Lincoln,  260; 
capture  of,  261 

Astor,  W.  W.,  450 

Atenquiqui,  396 

Atlanta,  The  fall  of,  250 

Atlantic  cable,  The,  142 

Auburn,  journey  from,  2;  Henry 
Clay  visits,  22;  railroad  to,  35; 
theatre  at,  37;  applicants  for 
pardons  at,  38;  the  prison  at,  40; 
silk  culture  at,  43;  Harding  at,  54; 
J.  Q.  Adams  at,  56;  Seward's  cane, 
145;  diplomats  at,  237;  Chinese 
Envoys  at,  379;  home  at,  429 

Augur,  General,  250 

Augustus,  246 

Averill,  General,  250 

Aylesworth,  A.  B.,  467 

Aztec  Calendar  Stone,  The,  410 

Aztec  memorials,  410 


Baez,  President,  309 


473 


474 


Index 


Bagot,  Sir  Charles,  25,  359 

Bahamas,  The,  282,  325 

Bailey,  Dr.,  114 

Baker,  Edward  D.,  72 

Baker,  Mr.,  369 

Baker,  Seward's  Works,  by,  172 

Balluzek,  Minister,  380 

Baltimore,  mobs  in,  155;  the  appeal 
to,  206;  retreat  from,  249 

Baltimore  Plot,  The,  134 

Banana  culture,  296 

Banks,  General,  175,  177,  243,  365 

Baranoff  Castle,  457 

Baranoff,  Governor,  358 

Barbary  Corsairs,  The,  141,  220 

Barbary  Powers,  The,  431 

Barlow,  Gen.  Francis,  450 

Barn-Burners,  The,  90 

Barnes,  Miss,  456 

Barnes,  William,  99 

Barnum's  Circus,  37 

Barron,  Mr.,  414 

Batavia,  Coffee  at,  295 

Bates,  Attorney-General,  195 

Beaufort,  Evacuation  of,  194 

Beaumont,  Capt.  de,  115,  122 

Bedford,  Village  of,  4;  burning 
of,  6 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  96 

Behring  Strait,  The,  218 

Belen  Gate,  The,  411 

Belgium,  216 

Bell,  John,  70,  75,  79,  80 

Belle  Plain,  266 

Bellows,  Dr.,  104 

Bement's  Hotel,  2 

Benedict,  Colonel,  51 

Benedict,  Lewis,  26 

Benton,  Colonel,  70,  77 

Bering,  Capt.  Vitus,  357 

Bermuda  Hundred,  250 

Bermuda,  Island  of,  282 

Berrien,  70,  79 

Berthemy,  Minister,  380 

Bertinatti,  Commander,  236,  422 

Bethune,  Dr.,  96 

Bible,  The,  66 

Bic,  The  Island  of,  128 

Bigelow,  John,  Diary  of,  366 

Bishop,  Madame,  96 

Black,  Attorney-General,  142 

Blackbeard's  Castle,  289 

Blair,  Montgomery,  Postmaster- 
General,  238,  245 

Blatchford,  R.  M.,  26,  54,  93,  160 

Blatchford,  Samuel,  26,  50 

Blockade,    proclamation    of,    160; 


trouble  over  the,  215;  lifting  the, 
252 

Blondin  at  Niagara,  132 

Bloodgood,  Major  William,  51 

Blue  Room,  The,  322 

Bodisco,  Mr.,  363 

Bolivar,  Greeting  to,  141 

Booth,  Escape  of,  266 

Border  Ruffians,  The,  91 

Bossero,  Luis  G.,  403,  420 

Boston,  Mason  and  Slidell  in,  186 

Boston  Post  Road,  The,  5 

Boulanger,  General,  449 

Bowen,  Col.  James,  26,  51 

Bowling  Green,  Occupation  of,  194 

Boyd,  Linn,  71 

Boyer,  President,  322 

Braddock's  defeat,  1 1 

Bradstreet,  Mr.,  456 

Brady,  Governor,  457 

Brant,  Pursuit  of,  20 

Brazilian  Legation,  The,  184 

Breckinridge,  General,  243,  245 

Brice,  James,  269 

British  Legation,  The,  214 

British,  Seizures  by  the,  141 

British  sympathy  for  the  Con- 
federacy, 212 

Brody,  Dr.,  297 

"  Brother  Jonathan,"  The,  34 

Brown,  Albert  J.,  71 

Brown,  Captain,  375 

Brown,  John,  capture  of,  131; 
portrait  of,  322 

Brown's  Hotel,  377 

Bruce,  Sir  Frederick,  257,  375,  380 

Bryant,  William  C.,  431 

Buccaneers,  The,  293 

Buchanan,  campaign  of,  91; 
Secretary,  141;  President,  142 

Buddha,  Statue  of,  373 

Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  Theatre,  36;  Adams 
a*»  57  J  convention  at,  69;  har- 
bour of,  237 

Bulldog  Affair,  The,  270 

Bull-fights,  402 

Bull  Run,  The  battle  of,  181 

Bulwer,  Lady,  130 

Bulwer,  Sir  Henry,  81,  130 

Burgesses  Corps,  The,  51 

Burke,  Capt.  Martin,  192 

Burlingame,  Anson,  151,  375,  380 

Burnside,  Gen.,  expedition  of,  193; 
Newbern  captured  by,  194;  212, 
237,  243 

Burt,  Col.  James  C.,  47 

Butler,  General,  159,  194,  250 


Index 


475 


Butler,  John,  264 
Butterfield,  General,  161,  230 

Cabral,  General,  310,  350,  382 

Cadiz,  Consul  at,  220 

Calderon,  382 

Calhoun,     John     C.,     141,     446; 

speech    by,    75;     death    of,    79; 

son  of,  104 
California,  admission  of,  73,  77,  83; 

acquisition  of,  141 
Cameron,  Secretary,  163 
Campbell,  Lewis  D.,  71 
Campbell,  Rev.  Dr.,  56 
Campeachy,  294 
Canada,  Steamer,  451 
Canal  debt,  The,  27 
Canandaigua,  Adams  at,  57 
Cafiedo,  Jacinto,  391,  403 
Canning,  Stratford,  359 
Canova,  Statues  by,  409 
Cape  Charles,  270 
Cape  Haytien,  269 
Cape  Henry,  270 
Cape  May,  236 
Capitol  at  Washington,  17,  68 
Caribbean  Sea,  The,  279 
Caribs,  The,  279 
Carlin,  Portrait  by,  28 
Carlisle  Barracks,  443 
Carlotta,  Empress,  382 
Carnival  of  Venice,  The,  97 
Carrie  Martin,  The,  229,  232,  235 
Carter,  David  A.,  71 
Carthagena,  294 
Gary,  Uncle,  2 
Cass,   General,  69;    resignation  of, 

142 

Catharine  ,  The  case  of,  40 

Catherine,  Empress,  357 
Catinat,  The  yacht,  182 
Cavour,  Count,  90,  130,  382 
Cayuga,    Lake,   9,   237;   Creek,   9; 

bridge,  22 

Cayutlan,  Lake,  391 
Cazneau,  Mr.,  309,  313,  327 
Cedar  Creek,  Victory  at,  250 
Celaya,  406 
Central  America,  Representative  of, 

237 

Cerro  de  las  Campanas,  407 
Chalco,  Lake,  411 
Chamber  of  Commerce,  The,  452 
Chambersburg,  n 
Chancellorsville,  Battle  of,  238 
Chandler,  Captain,  347 
Chapala,  Lake,  397 


Chapultepec,    castle  of,  409,  412; 

battle  of,  411 
Charles,  The  negro,  23 
Charles  II.,  Proclamation  of,  401 
Charles  IV.,  409 

Charleston,    firing    from,   151;    ob- 
structing harbour  of,  215;  shelling 

of,  243 

Charlotte  Amalia,  Queen,  300 
Chartres,  Due  de,  183 
Chase,  Salmon  P.,  113 
Chase,  Senator,  79 
Chattahoochee,  Johnston  at,  250 
Chattanooga,  Rosecrans  at,  243 
Chew,  Chief  Clerk,  362 
Chicago,  111.,  108 
Chih  Kang,  376 
Child,  Lydia  M.,  446 
Children,  Society  for  Prevention  of 

Cruelty  to,  431 
Chilkat  Indians,  458 
Chilkat  River,  The,  383 
China,      indemnity      from,      370; 

enters    diplomacy,   375;     treaty 

with,  378 

Chinese  labour,  335 
Chinook  jargon,  459 
Chippewa,  The  battle  of,  169 
Chiquihuite  Pass,  418 
Cholula,  Pyramid  of,  416 
Christian  IX.,  King,  382 
Christiania,  Pa.,  108 
Christianstedt,  304 
Christmas  at  Auburn,  3 
Churubusco,  Battle  of,  411 
Cigarettes,  Manufacture  of,  337 
Cinco  de  Mayo,  Holiday  of,  416 
Circo  de  Chiarini,  The,  412 
Circular  Dispatch,  The,  172 
Circular  on  Military  Situation,  205, 

251 

Citizens'  Corps,  The,  51 
City  of  Baltimore,  Steamer,  195 
Civil  War,  Beginnings  of  the,  150, 

157 

Clarendon,  Lord,  129 
Clark,  Lewis  G.,  25 
Clarke,  Charles  E.,  72 
Clay,  Cassius  M.,  158 
Clay  Compromise,  74,  82 
Clay,  Henry,  22,  44,  47,  70,  71,  74, 

82,  141 

Clayton-Bulwer  Treaty,  The,  81 
Clayton,  Secretary,  80 
Cleopatra,  The,  420 
Clinton,  Governor,  24,  40,  53,  469 
Clotilde,  Princess,  182 


Index 


Coast  Survey,  The,  384 

Coatzacoalco,  The  steamer,  163 

Cobb,  Howard,  71 

Cobb,  Howell,  72 

Cochran,  Paymaster,  269 

Coffee-tree,  The,  295,  296 

Coffin,  Captain,  123 

Cold  Harbour,  Battle  of,  250 

Colima,  State  of,  391 

Cologne,  Martyrs  at,  302 

Columbia,  Pa.,  107 

Columbia,  Slavery  in  District  of, 

74,  77,  83 

Columbus,  Christopher,  275,  277, 
280,  302,311,  352 

Columbus,  Diego,  314,  352 

Commanding  generals,  The,  238 

Compiegne,  Visit  to,  132 

Compromise  Measures  of  1850,  The, 
114 

Conard,  Agent,  316 

Concerts  in  Albany,  96 

Conducta,  The,  418 

Confederates,  156;  troops  for  the, 
153;  blockade  of.  160;  Merrier 
with  the,  183;  deserted  batteries 
of,  196 ;  power  of  the,  242 ;  deser- 
tions from  the,  250 

Congress,  The,  203 

Congressional  Library,  The,  83 

Conkling,  Roscoe,  37,  108 

Connecticut,  Dinner  in  honour  of, 

93 

Conrad,  Charles  W.,  71 
Continental  Army,  The,  4 
Continental  Hotel  in  Philadelphia, 

135 

Contrabands,  202,  204,  233 
Contreras,  Battle  of,  411 
Cooperstown,  A  night  at,  237 
Copperheads,  Elation  of  the,  206 
Corbet,  Mr.,  Visit  to,  126 
Cordova,  Mexico,  418 
Corinth,  The  army  at,  204 
Cornell,  Governor,  451 
Cornwallis'  headquarters,  232 
Corona,  Maximilian  captured    by, 

407 

Cortez,  Conquest  by,  411,  416 
Corwin,  70 
Cotton  is  King,  161 
Couch,  General,  238 
Courier  and  Inquirer,  The,  88 
Cowboys,  The  marauders,  5 
Cowley,  Lord,  130 
Cox,  Mr.,  145 
Craft,  William  and  Ellen,  108 


Craney  Island,  197 

Crimean  War,  The,  90 

Crispino  e  la  Comare,  412 

Crittenden,  John  J.,  25,  47 

Crittenden,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  190 

Crompond,  Village  of,  7 

Cuba,  Island  of,  325 

Cuervo,  Governor,  402 

Cueva,  Governor,  391 

Cumberland,  Arrival  at,  196 

Cumberland,  The,  203,  269 

Curtis,  George  W.,  96 

Custom    Houses,    Treasury    takes 

possession  of  the,  256 
Cutts,  Captain,  324 

Daboll's  Arithmetic,  27 
Dacotah,  The,  200 
Daguerreotypes,  28 
Dahlgren,  Captain,  173,  195,  199 
Dana,  Chas.  A.,  with  the  Tribune,  88 
Dardanelles,  The,  300 
Davidson,  Mr.,  384 
D'Ayila,  Zuylen,  382 
Davis,  General,  383,  385,  387 
Davis,  Honest  John,  25,  70 
Davis,  Jefferson,  70;  capture  of,  261 
Dawson,  George,  85,  no 
Day  Point,  Battery  at,  200 
Dayton,  Minister,  70,  180,  216,  217 
Debate,  The  great,  75 
Decatur,  Admiral,  141 
Declaration  of  Independence,  The, 

138 

De  Grasse,  449 
Delancey's  Horse,  5 
Delavan  house,  The,  99 
De  Long,  Judge,  220 
Dempster  concerts,  The,  96 
Denmark,   sympathy  of,   217;    St. 

Thomas  taken  by,  298;  praise  of, 

304 

Denmson,  Postmaster,  254 
Derecho,  Island  of,  279 
De  Soto,  The  steamer,  263,  267,  269, 

276,  306,  316,  342 
Devens,  General,  445 
DeWitt,  Simeon,  469 
Diary  or  Notes  on  the  War,  172 
Diaz,  President,  435 
Dickerson,  Governor,  18 
Dickinson,  Daniel  S.,  70,  79 
Diego,  Juan,  Vision  of,  411 
Dimon,  Mr.,  368 
Diplomatic  Corps,  The,  236 
Disunionists,  Efforts  of,  147 
Diven,  Congressman,  208 


Index 


477 


Dix,  General,  166,  175,  233,  235 
Dix,  Governor,  177 
Dix,  John  A.,  160 
Dix,  Morgan,  33 
"  Doctor, "  The  horse,  9,  13 
Dodge,  Mr.,  459 
Don,  The,  347 
Don  Quixote,  395 
Douglas  Island,  460 
Douglas,  "Little  Giant,"  70;  Sena- 
tor, 80;  loyalty  of,  155 
Draft  Riots  in  N.  Y.,  236 
Draper,  Simeon,  26,  54 
Dred  Scott  decision,  The,  91 
Dulce,  General,  332,  342 
Dunscomb,  Collector,  115 
Durkee,  Charles,  72 

Early,  General,  243,  244,  245,  250 
Eclipse  of  the  sun,  An,  385 
Edwards  Ferry,  206 
Elie,  Minister,  321 
Elizabeth,  Princess,  357 
Ellicott's  Mills,  Retreat  to,  244 
Ellis  Bay,  122 
Ellsworth,  Oliver,  140 
El  Puente  de  Calderon,  404 
El  Voile  de  Andorra,  401 
Emancipation  Proclamation,  226 
Emerence,  The  schooner,  115,  128 
England,  war  with,  141;    anger  in, 

187;  trouble  averted  with,  190 
Episcopal  Convention,  The,  55 
Ericsson,  The,  197 
Erie  Canal,  The,  36 
Ernani,  Opera  of,  400 
Escobedo,  407 
Eugenie,  Empress,  128 
European  affairs  in  1848,  101 
European  plots,  148 
Evarts,  Secretary,  160,  433, 438, 439 
Evening  Journal,  The  Albany,  84, 

no,  199 

F  Street  home,  The,  68 

Falmouth,    trip  to,  229;    ruins  of, 

231 

Farragut,  Admiral,  243,  250 
"  Father  Abraham,"  song,  208 
Fawn,  The  tame,  25,  38 
Faxon,  Mr.,  195 
Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  The,  450 
Fillmore,     Millard,     57;     becomes 

President,  82 
Fisher,  Mr.,  102 

Fisherman  and  the  Genie,  The,  288 
Fishkill,  Journey  to,  7 


Flagg,  Comptroller,  31 

Floating  Gardens,  The,  411 

Florida,  The,  214 

Florida,  Discovery  of,  282 

Foote,  Commodore,  194 

Ford's    Theatre,    Assassination    of 

Lincoln  at,  260 
Forrest,  The  actor,  37 
Fort  Darling,  201 
Fort  Donelson,  Victory  of,  194 
Fort  Foote,  266 

Fort  Henry,  Capture  of,  193,  194 
Fort  Huger,  Attack  on,  200 
Fort  Macon,  Evacuation  of,  194 
Fort  McHenry,  175 
Fort  Pickens,  146,  150 
Fort  Stevens,  248 ;  battle  at,  249 
Fort    Sumter,    146;    reinforcement 

of,  150;  fall  of,  254 
Fort  Tongass,  365 
Fort  Warren,  186,  192,  226 
Fort  Washington,  229,  265 
Fort  Wrangel,  456 
Fortress  Monroe,  197,  203,  233,  349 
Fortress  Monroe  Conference,  434 
Foster,  John  W.,  436,  467 
Fountain  of  Youth,  The,  281 
Fox,  Captain,  191,  195 
France,     trouble    with,     140;     ex- 
planations from,  150;    feeling  in, 

181;  talk  of  intervention  by,  215; 

Emperor  of,  414 
Francis  Joseph,  Emperor,  131 
Frankenstein,  Bust  by,  28 
Franklin,  General,  168,  197,  243 
Franklin,  Life  of,  27 
Franklin's  battleground,  196 
Frederick  City,  Meeting  at,  176,  177 
Frederick,  King  of  Denmark,  382 
Frederick,  rebels  in,  206;  Harch'e  at, 

239;  invasion  of,  243 
Fredericksburg,  195,  228;  troops  at, 

231;  battle  of,  238 
Frederikstedt,  the  Consul  at,  297; 

harbour  of,  302 
Freeman,  artist,  31 
Free-Soil  Party,  The,  69,  102 
Freestone,  Batteries  at,  266 
Fremont,  Colonel,  75,  83 
French  and  Indian  War,  1 1 
French  delegates,  The,  450 
French  Emperor's  address,  216 
French  Empire,  Fall  of  the,  185 
French  Legation,  The,  184 
French     princes,     the,     181;     join 

Union  Army,  184;  at  Cumberland, 

197 


478 


Index 


Fugitive  Slave  Law  of  1793, 1 13 
Fugitive  Slave  Law,  The,  74,  78, 

83,  105,  114,445 
Fulton,  Robert,  469 

Gadsby's  Hotel,  17 

Galatea,  The,  316,  323 

Galena,  The,  200,  235 

Garcia,  Don  Jps£,  350 

Garfield,  President,  Death  of,  448 

Garibaldi,  General,  90 

Garita  de  San  Cosmo,  409 

Gasp6,  Capt.  Coffin  of,  125 

Gassendi,  The  frigate,  173,  203 

Gautier,  Captain,  203 

Gavit,  The  engraver,  28 

Geffrard,  President,  320,  326,  382 

Geneva,  237 

Geological  Survey,  The,  27 

George,  King,  4,  20 

George,  negro,  433 

Georgetown,  8 1 

Georgia  Controversy,  The,  27 

German  delegates,  452 

Gerolt,  Baron,  228,  233 

Gettysburg,  The,  347,  349 

Gettysburg,  Victory  at,  216, 241,242 

Ghent,  Treaty  of,  141 

Gibraltar,  222,  300 

Giddings,  Joshua  R.,  71 

Giesboro,  Cruise  to,  264 

Gilbert,  Dr.,  233 

Gilliss,  Captain,  233 

Gilmore,  General,  243 

Gloucester,  Earthworks  at,  196 

Gloucester  Point,  232 

Gold  in  California,  70 

Golden  City,  The,  390 

Goldsborough,  Commodore,  195, 
197 

Gonaives,  Bay  of,  315,  325 

Gonave,  Island  of,  315 

Goodrich,  Judge,  228 

Gordon,  435 

Gortschakoff,  Minister,  218,  360, 
382 

Gosport  Navy  Yard,  234 

Governor's  Room,  N.  Y.,  53 

Grabow,  Baron,  228 

Grace,  Mayor,  452 

Granger,  Francis,  25,  57 

Grant,  General,  at  Vicksburg,  212; 
at  Wilderness,  244;  commander, 
249;  surrender  to,  251;  at  Cabinet 
meeting,  254;  President,  355, 

„  432,  439 

Gray,  artist,  54 


Great  Britain,  A  note  to,  150 
Great  Northern  Railway,  456 
"  Great  Tyee,"  The,  383 
Greeley,  Horace,  45,  88 
Green,  Andrew  H.,  453 
Greenbacks,  243 
Greenfield,  Eliza,  96 
Greenwood,  Grace,  104 
Grinnell,  Moses  H.,  26,  54,  160 
Guadalajara,  396,  399,  405,  420 
Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  141,  409,  411 
Guanajuato,  405 
Guatamozin  Monument,  411 
Guerrero,  Mexico,  414 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  Operations  in  the, 

243 
Gwin,  Dr.,  75,  83 

Hale,  John  P.,  70,  79,  96,  102 

Hall,  Captain,  229 

Hall,  Dr.  Edward  H.,  470 

Halleck,  General,  168,  205,  229 

Hampton  Roads,  Fleet  at,  195 

Hampton,  Ruins  of,  233 

Hancock,  General,  166, 238, 445, 451 

Hanseatic  Cities,  The,  236 

Hard,  son  of  Senator,  60 

Hardie,  General,  239 

Harding,  Chester,  54 

Hards,  The,  90 

Hardy's  Bluff,  200 

Harper  &  Brothers,  27 

Harpers  Ferry,  1 1,  243;  John  Brown 
at,  131;  attack  on,  155 

Harrisburg,  Pa.,  n,  206 

Harrison,  General,  campaign  of, 
44;  death  of,  48 

Hassan  Bedreddin,  400 

Hatteras,  Cape,  271,  354 

Havana,  Cuba,  arrival  at,  283; 
Columbus  at,  311;  Morro  Castle, 
329;  architecture  of,  330;  bright- 
ness of,  332;  Cathedral  of,  333; 
sugar  at,  334;  Chinese  labour, 
335;  lottery  at,  336;  the  Tacon 
Theatre,  340 

Haverstraw  Bay,  451 

Hawley,  Seth  C.,  56 

Hay,  Drummond,  222 

Hay,  Secretary,  466 

Hayes,  Rutherford  B.,  431,  438,  439 

Hayti,  "La  Isla  Espanola, "  302; 
arrival  at,  315;  U.  S.  Consulate 
at,  316;  architecture  of,  317; 
fertility  of,  320;  President 
Geffrard  of,  320;  presidents  of, 
322;  lack  of  enterprise  at,  324 


Index 


479 


Haytian  Republic,  The,  270 
Heart  of  the  Andes,  The,  395 
Hebard,  Engineer,  269 
Heintzelman,  General,  205,  238 
Helderbarrack,  First    campaign   of 

the,  53 

Helderberg  War,  The,  27,  48 
Henson,  Josiah,  114 
Herald,  The  N.  Y.,  26,  88,  132 
Hercules  factory,  The,  407 
Herkimer,  Adams  at,  58 
Hesse-Cassel,  Prince  of,  20 
Hessians,  The,  20 
Hewett,  Captain,  199 
Hicks,  Governor,  176 
Hidalgo,  Padre,  404 
Hidalgo,  Siege  by,  405 
Hien  Fung,  382 
Hill,  James  J.,  456 
Hill,  Samuel,  456 
Hilliard,  Henry  W.,  71 
Hiogo,  japan,  372 
Hispaniola,  352 
Hitz,  Consul-General,  217 
Hoffman,  Ogden,  47 
Holland,  Alexander,  60 
Holliday,  Ben,  383 
Holt,  1 66 
Hooker,  General,  166,  228,  229,  230, 

238 

Hospitals  at  Hampton,  233 
Hotel  de  Almy,  330 
Hotel  de  Angleterra,  339 
Houston,  General,  70 
Howard,  General,  238,  451 
Howell,  Commander,  268 
Huarte,  Juan  Firmin,  392 
Hudson  Centennial,  469 
Hudson,  Henry,  469 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  126,  359 
Hugo,  Victor,  347 
Humboldt,  406 
Hungarian  Liberty  Association,  The, 

98 
Hungarian  Republic,  The  dream  of 

a,  ioo 

Hunt,  Governor,  99 
Hunter,  Mr.,  363,  369 
Hunter,  William,  70,  142,  195 
Huntington,  54 
Husted,  Speaker,  430 
Hutchinsons,  The,  96 
Hydah  Indians,  458 

Independence  Hall,  138 
Independent  Artillery,  51 
Indian  Head,  266 


Inland  Passage,  The,  383 
Inman,  Henry,  54 
Ino,  The  warship,  224 
Intervention,  Efforts  at,  215 
Irving,  Washington,  20,  25,  26 
Isabella  Secunda,  Queen,  382 
Island  No.  10,  194 
Island  of  the  Holy  Saviour,  302 
Isle  d'Orleans,  The,  115 
Italy,  war  in,  90;  friendship  of,  217 
Iturbide  Theatre,  The,  412 
Ixtaccihuatl,  Mount,  411,  413,  417 

Jackson,  General,  18,  72,  141 

Jackson,  Dr.  Sheldon,  458 

Jalisco,  Coast  of,  390,  399 

Jalos,  City  of,  404 

Jamaica,  West  Indies,  306 

James  Battle,  The,  269 

James   River,    expedition    up    the, 

200;  the  opening  of,  201 
Jamestown,  Visit  to,  201 
Japan,  treaty  with,  142;  indemnity 

of,  370;  commission  of,  371 
Jay,  Col.  William,  450 
Jefferson,  Thomas,  188,  368;  home 

of,    17;    first    message    of,    140; 

proclamation  by,  141 
Jeffersonian,  The,  88 
Jenny,  The  fawn,  24,  38 
Jerome  Napoleon,  Prince,  1 86 
Jette,  Sir  Louis  Amale,  467 
"John  Bull,"  The,  34 
John,  Colonel,  19 
"Johnny  Cook's  Band,"  29 
Johnson,    Andrew,    344,    355,    373, 

439;  becomes  President,  260 
Johnson's  Polar  Bear  Garden,  363 
Johnson,  William,  9,  13 
Johnston,  General,  pursuit  of,  250; 

surrender  of,  261 
Joinville,  Prince  de,  183 
Jones,  Senor,  402 
Jones,  Whartpn,  Suit  by,  113 
Juarez,    President,    290,   391,    409, 

412,  419,  436 
Judd,  Rev.  Dr.,  81 
Julius  Caesar,  37 
Juneau,  461 

Kalosh  Indians,  The,  386,  458 

Kamchatka,  357 

Kames,  Elements  of  Criticism,  65 

Kane's  Walk,  23,  95 

Kansas,  Struggle  in,  91 

Kearsarge,  The,  250,  451 

Kenesaw  Mountain,  250 


480 


Index 


Kennedy,  Mr.,  340 

Kent,  Judge  William,  96,  131 

Kernan,  Senator  Francis,  431 

Ketchikan  P.  O.,  455 

Keyes,  General,  232 

Key  West,  149,  300 

Kidder,  Dr.,  269 

Kilpatrick,  General,  250 

King,  General  Rufus,  26,  50,  232, 

435 

King,  John  A.,  72,  166, 450,  451 
King,  Preston,  72 
King's  Ferry,  451 
King,  Thomas  B.f  71,  73 
Kirkpatrick,  Thomas,  354 
Klakautch,  Chief,  462,  384 
Klondike,  The,  468 
Know-Nothing  Party,  The,  90 
Knoxville,  Capture  of,  243 
Kossuth,  Louis,  Visit  of,  89, 96, 98 
Koszta  case,  The,  141 
Kung,  Prince,  375 

Labour  troubles,  442 

Labrador,  voyage  to,  120;  Mingan 

in,  121 ;   coast  of  Anticosti,  122; 

Ellis  Bay,  122;  Hudson's  Bay  Co., 

126 

La  Cabana  de  Tom,  412 
La  Calera,  392 
La  Canada,  411 
La  Cruz,  Church  of,  407 
Lacy  House,  The,  231 
Lafayette,  Marquis,  141,  449 
La  Malinche,  417 
Lamar,  435 
Lamb,  Charles,  26 
Lamon,  Col.  Ward  H.,  135 
Landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  119 
Lane,  James  H.,  158 
La  Purissima  factory,  407 
Largos,  Ignacio,  391 
Las  Cases,  Secretary,  471 
Las  Cumbres,  417 
La  Serena  mine,  406 
Last    Cabinet   meeting,    Lincoln's, 

254 

Launger  Horalius,  178 
Lee,  Admiral,  Fleet  of,  235 
Lee,  Gen.  Robert  E.,  168;   pursuit 

of,   208;    marching    north,   239; 

driven      to     Wilderness,      250; 

surrender  of,  251 
Legate^  Hugh  S.,  25,  47 
Lehigh,  The,  235 
L'Enfant,  Major,  140 
Leon,  Mexico,  404 


Leon,  Ponce  de,  281 

Leopold,  King,  382 

Lerdo  de  Tijada,  Sefior,  409,  412, 
415,  436 

Leutze,  artist,  362 

Leuwenhaupt,  Count,  447 

Lexington,  Battle  of,  5 

1'Huys,  Drouyn  de,  129,  217,  420 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  journey  to 
Washington,  134;  address  in 
Philadelphia,  138;  inauguration 
of,  145;  office-seekers,  147;  sugges- 
tions by  Seward,  149;  proclama- 
tion by,  152;  praise  by,  160; 
visits  Gassendi,  174;  deals  with 
Maryland,  178;  dines  Prince 
Napoleon,  182;  the  Mason  and 
Slidell  Case,  189;  call  for  300,000 
men,  205;  farmers'  boys  in 
battle,  206;  the  Emancipation 
Proclamation,  226;  oysters  for, 
233;  visits  to  War  Office,  243; 
visit  to  Fort  Stevens,  248;  re- 
election, 250;  two  proclama- 
tions, 252;  visits  Richmond,  253; 
last  Cabinet  meeting,  254;  a 
strange  dream,  255;  invitation 
to  the  theatre,  257;  assassina- 
tion, 260;  grief  for  Lincoln,  261; 
funeral  of,  261 ;  portrait  of,  322 

Lincoln,  Robert,  135 

"Lion,"  The  horse,  9,  13 

Little  Falls,  N.  Y.,  58,  237 

Livingston,  Chancellor,  469 

Livingston,  Robert  R.,  140,  450 

Lloyd,  Captain,  455 

Lloyds,  Insurance  at,  214 

Locke,  Mr.,  269 

Lodge,  Henry  Cabot,  466 

Log  Cabin,  The,  45,  88 

Log  Cabin  Candidate,  The,  45 

London  Exchange,  The,  216 

London  Illustrated  News,  The,  124 

London  Times,  The,  92,  216 

Long  Bridge,  The,  157 

Long,  Henry,  106 

Long  Island,  battle  of,  19;  silk- 
worms in,  43 

Los  Capuchinos,  407 

Lottery  tickets,  336 

Louisa,  203 

Louisiana,  purchase  of,  140,  368; 
march  through,  243 

Louis  Napoleon,  90,  101,  181 

Louis  Philippe,  King,  183 

Louis  XIV.'s  time,  A  map  of,  115, 
132 


Index 


481 


L'Ouverture,  Toussaint,  322 
Lower  California,  390 
Ludlow,  Colonel,  233 
Ludlowville,  9 
Lycoming  Valley,  9 
Lydius  Street,  Albany,  34 
Lynn  Channel,  461 
Lyons,  Lord,   149,   179,   187,    191, 
236,  423 

MacArone,  correspondent,  205 

Macbeth,  37 

Madison,  President,  140,  141 

Magruder,  General,  233 

Mamea,  envoy,  440 

Manassas,     rendezvous     at,     158; 

reverses  at,  181 ;  Army  of  Virginia 

at,  206 

Manderstrom,  382 
Mangum,  Senator,  70,  79,  102 
Man  hunting  on  the  border,  108 
Mann,  Horace,  71 
Mann,  Mrs.  Horace,  105 
Man-of-war,  life  on  a,  275;  coaling 

a,  288 

Mansfield,  General,  166,  203 
Manzanillo,  Harbour  of,  390 
Maracaibo,  294 
Maratanza,  The,  200 
Marcy,  Governor,  27,  31,  49 
Marfil,  Canon  of,  405 
Margaret  and  Jessie,  The,  354 
Marinao,  Cuba,  336 
Marine  Band,  The,  80 
Marseillaise,  The,  183,  451 
Martinique,  Coffee  in,  295 
Maryland,  journey  through,  1 1 ;  why 

it  did  not  secede,  177;  Confederate 

appeal  to,  206 
Mason,  Ambassador,  131 
Mason,  Senator,  76,  79,  446 
Mason  and  Slidell,  186 
Massachusetts,    the    Eighth,     166; 

the  Sixth,  154,  157 
Matsumoto  Judayu,  372 
Matteson,  O.  B.,  72 
Matthias  Point,  266 
Matute,  Senor,  400,  402 
Maximilian,    Emperor,    217,    290, 

382,  407,  415,  435 
May,  Rev.  Samuel  J.,  108 
Maysi,  Cape,  325 
Mazeppa,  37 
McClellan,  General,  168,  175,  184, 

194,  196,  205,  208,  211,  228,  327 
McClernand,  General,  72,  212 
McClintock,  Commodore,  353 


McCook,  General,  at  Fort  Stevens, 
248 

McCreery,  Secretary,  441 

McCulloch,  Secretary,  254 

McGuire,  Speaker,  430 

McHenry,  Jerry,  Case  of,  108 

McKoun,  Recorder,  49 

McLean,  Judge,  113 

McLeod,  case,  The,  27 

Meade,  General,  238 

Mejia,  Trial  of,  407, 415 

Memphis,  Gen.  Butler  at,  194 

Mercier,  French  Minister,  173,  180, 
183,  236,  422 

Merrimac,  The,  197,  203 

Mexico,  war  with,  69;  treaty  with, 
141;  France  in,  217;  a  talk  on, 
290;  Seward  visits,  390;  rising  of 
1811  in,  404;  city  of,  409;  in- 
vasion of,  414,  435;  first  rail- 
road in,  415;  conquest  of,  416 

Middleton,  Henry,  359 

Mikado,  The,  382 

Miles,  General,  165 

Miller,  Andreas,  7 

Miller,  Elijah,  8 

Miller,  Josiah,  4 

Miller,  Warner,  456 

Millroy,  Colonel,  203 

Mill  Spring,  Victory  at,  193 

Milton,  ii 

Mingan  in  Labrador,  121 

Minisink,  Massacre  at,  20 

Minnesota,  Flagship,  197,  200,  235 

Minor,  Consul,  329 

Minturn,  54 

Miramon,  Trial  of,  407 

Mirror,  The,  26 

Mississippi,  fortifying  the,  169; 
opening  of  the,  242 

Missouri  Compromise,  Repeal  of 
the,  91 

Missouri,  Victory  in,  193 

Mobile  Bay,  Battle  of,  250 

Mohawk  &  Hudson  R.  R.,  The,  34 

Mohawk  Valley,  The,  51,  237 

Molina,  Mr.,  237 

Molino  del  Rey,  Battle  of,  411 

Mona  Passage,  The,  279,  327,  350 

Monitor,  The,  200 

Monmouth,  Battle  of,  19 

Monocacy,  Bridge  at,  244,  246 

Monroe  Doctrine,  The,  141,  149 

Monroe,  Secretary,  141;  Minister  to 
England,  188 

Montana,  The,  390 

Monte  de  Piedad,  410 


482 


Index 


Montezuma,  Alameda  of,  409 
Montgomery,  Confederates  at,  154 
Montgomery,  The,  269 
Monticello,  17,  1 8 
Moore,  Mr.,  297,  302 
Moorish  episode,  A,  219 
Moorish  guards,  Bribery  of,  222 
Morehead,  Mr.,  102 
Morgan,  The  buccaneer,  294 
Morgan,  George  D.,  160 
Morgan,  Governor,  160, 431, 448 
Morocco,  220 
Morpeth,  Lord,  25 
Morrill,  Dr.,  391 
Morro  Castle,  329 
Morton,  Senator,  80 
Morus  multicaulis,  42 
Mosquera,  President,  382 
Mother  Carey's  Chickens,  272 
Mount  Edgecumbe,  457 
Mount  Vernon,  17,  103,  185,  229, 

265 

Muir  Glacier,  460 
Muley  el  Abbas,  Prince,  224 
Murfreesboro,  212 
Myers,  Lieutenant,  220 
Myers,  Stephen,  no 

Napier,  Lord,  423 
Napoleon,  128,  178, 181,  471 
Napoleon,  Prince,  182 
Napoleon  III.,  128,  420 
Nashville,  Destruction  of  the,  194 
Nassau,  A  stop  at,  354 
National  Era,  The,  114 
National  Guard,  The,  451 
National  Palace,  Mexico's,  410,  412 
National  Theatre,  The,  414 
Natural  Bridge,  The,  16 
Naugatuck,  The,  201 
Navy,   increase   in  the,  161;    new 

vessels  in  the,  212 
Nebraska  Bill,  The,  91 
Nelson,  Envoy,  409 
Nesselrode,  Diplomat,  359 
Neutral  Ground,  The,  5 
New  England,  Sunday  in,  278 
New  Jersey,  Silk  in,  43 
New  Madrid,  Victory  at,  194 
New  Mexico,   a    slave   State,   83; 

acquisition  of,  141 
New  Orleans,  Farragut  at,  194 
Newport,  Naval  School  at,  184,  236 
Newport  News,  203,  235 
New  Year's  Day,  249,  266 
New  York  City  Charter,  431 
New  Yorker,  The,  26 


New  York,  soldiers  in,  5;  evacuation 
of,  7;  natural  history  of,  27; 
City  Hall  at,  53;  7th  Regiment  of, 
I55|  7Ist  Regiment,  159;  I2th 
Militia  of,  163;  Russian  fleet  at, 
218 

New  York  State  Library,  56 

Niagara  Falls,  The,  56,  132,  379, 452 

Nicaragua  Treaty,  The,  81 

Nicholas,  Emperor,  360 

Nicholas  Nickleby,  26 

Nichols,  Proprietor,  37 

Nineteenth  Army  Corps,  249 

Ninety-Three,  347 

Ninth  Avenue  Elevated  R.  R.,  431 

Ninth  N.  Y.  Artillery,  244,  247 

Niskayuna,  Shakers  of,  277 

Noche  Triste,  41 1 

Norfolk,  Navy  Yard,  at,  155;  re- 
vival at,  234 

Norris,  Dr.,  258 

Nott,  Charles,  67 

Nott,  Dr.  Eliphalet,  25,  31,  59 

Nott,  Judge,  93 

Nott  stoves,  24 

Nullifiers,  The,  72 

Occoquan,  The,  266 

O'Connor,  General,  354 

O'Hara,  F.  C.  T.,  466 

Ohio,  Slavery  in,  112 

Old  Dominion,  The,  n 

Old  Hunkers,  The,  90 

Old  Line  Whigs,  The,  90 

Old  Point  Comfort,  270 

Ole  Bull,  97 

Oliver  Twist,  26 

Ometusco,  415 

Omnibus  Bill,  The,  79,  8 1 

Ono  Tomogoro,  372 

Ontario  County,  N.  Y.,  43 

Oonalaska,  364 

Opdyke,  George,  160 

Orange  &  Alexandria  R.  R.,  158 

Orange  County,  N.  Y.,  19 

Ordinance  of  1793,  The,  113 

Oregon  Debate,  The,  360 

Orizaba,  Mount,  417,  419;  city  of, 

418 

Orleans,  Princes  of,  183 
Osaka,  Japan,  372 
Ossipee,  The,  235 
O'Sullivan,  Mr.,  420 
Otsego  County,  N.  Y.,  237 
Otsego  Lake,  237 
Otumba,  Battlefield  of,  415 
Owasco  Lake,  55 


Index 


483 


Ozama,  The  river,  307,  327, 350 

Packet  boats,  The,  36 

Page,  artist,  54 

Pago-Pago,  Harbour  of,  440 

Palmer,  Major,  197 

Pamunkey  River,  The,  196 

Panama,  294,  300 

Panama  Canal,  The,  439 

Panic  of  1837,  21 

Pardons,  Applicants  for,  38 

Paris,  A  plot  at,  216 

Paris  Bourse,  The,  216 

Paris,  Comte  de,  183 

Parker,  Rev.  Theodore,  108 

Parkman,  Mr.,  406 

Parodi  concerts,  96 

Parsons,  L.  Sprague,  31 

Partagas  &  Son's  factory,  339 

Partant  pour  la  Syrie,  182 

Pasco,  37 

Paseo,  The,  331,  411 

Paso  del  Macho,  419 

Patent  Office,  The,  68 

Patroons,  The,  48,  430 

Patrpon  Street,  31 

Patti,  Adelina,  97;  Amalia,  97 

Paulding,  Commodore,  156 

Pauncefote,  Sir  Julian,  142 

Pawnee,  The  ship,  156 

Peale,  Titian  R.,  228,  230 

Pearl  Street  Academy,  31,  429 

Peck,  Commissioner,  316 

Peking,  Seward  at,  380 

Peninsula,  The,  206,  228 

Pennsylvania  Avenue,  17 

Pennsylvania,  Journey  through,  n 

Penthievre,  Due  de,  184 

Perez,  Sefior,  404 

Perry,  Commodore,  142 

"Peter,"  The  dinner  in  honour  of, 

184 

Peter  the  Great,  356 
Petersburg,     arrivals    from,     247; 

siege  of,  250,  251 
Petion,  President,  322 
Phillips,  Captain,  420 
Phillips  house,  The,  231 
Phillips,  Mr.,  287,  291 
Phillips,  Wendell,  96,  114 
Piccolomini,  96 
Pierce,  90 

Pierre,  The  driver,  118 
Pimentel,  General,  310 
Pinckney,  141 
Pine  Bridge,  8 
Piney  Point,  266 


Piper,  Count,  228,  237 

Pittsburg,  Rioting  in,  \\* 

Pius  IX.,  Pope,  382 

Plantain,  The,  296 

Plaza  de  Armas,  The,  331 

Poletica,  Diplomat,  359 

Folk's  Proclamation,  141 

Pomeroy,  Congressman,  208 

Pope,  General,  194,  206 

Popocatepetl,  Mount,  409,  413,  417 

Port-au-Prince,  315,  318 

Port  Hudson,  Battle  of,  242 

Port  Royal,  The,  201 

Port  Royal,  353 

Porter,  Admiral,  327 

Porter,  Captain,  194 

Porter,  David  D.,  346 

Porter,  Gen.  Andrew,  197,  339 

Porter,  Peter  B.,  47 

Porto  Bello,  294 

Porto  Rico,  278,  280 

Portrait  Gallery,  The,  382 

Portsmouth,  Rejoicing  at,  199 

Portuguese  discoverers,  301 

Potomac  River,  1 1 ;  Batteries  on  the, 
162;  conflicts  on  the,  185;  a 
voyage  down  the,  196;  another 
voyage,  266 

Prado,  President,  382 

Preble,  Commodore,  141 

Presbyterian  Seminary,  55 

President's  Mansion,  The,  17 

Prince,  L.  Bradford,  430 

Princeton,  Battle  of,  19 

Proclamation,  Emancipation,    The, 

305 
Prosperity    during    the   war,   237, 

242 

Provincetown,  Rinaldo  at,  192 
Prussia,  Sympathy  of,  217 
Puebla,  415 
Puget  Sound,  383 
Pujol,  Don  Pablo,  350 
Pulszky,  Madame,  102 
Putnam,  Harvey,  72 

Quails  at  San  Domingo,  312 
Quebec,  voyage  to,   127;    port  of, 

300 

Queen  Charlotte  Sound,  455 
Queen  of  Spain,  The,  8 1 
Queretaro,  382,  407 
Quincy,  Josiah,  25 

Railroads,  The  early,  34 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  271 
Ramsey,  Colonel,  22  8y 

.    ..  ~~*f 


484 


Index 


Rapid  Transit  Commission,  454 
Rappahannock,    armies     at,    212; 

march  to  the,  232 
Ravels,  The,  340 
Raymond,  Henry  J.,  88 
Reconstruction,  Plans  for,  256,  343 
Reed,  Lieutenant,  269 
Reed,  Professor,  60 
Registry  Law,  The,  27 
Reidsville,  Assemblage  at,  51 
Rendon,  Luis,  391 
Rensselaerwyck,  Manor  of,  48 
Representatives,  House  of,  71 
Republican  artillery,  51 
Republican  convention,  431 
Republican  party,  rise  of,  90,  146, 

344 

Resources  of  the  North,  237 
Riviere,  President,  322 
Revolution  of  1820,  The,  281 
Reynolds,  General,  238,  239 
Richmond,  slave  market  at,  16, 107; 

march   toward,   194;    armies  at, 

204;  siege  of,  250,  251,  252 
Right  of  petition,  The,  57 
Rinaldo,  British  frigate,  192,  199 
Rip  Raps,  The,  235 
Risley,  Elijah,  72 
Roberts,  Mr.,  269 
Robinson,  George  T.,  nurse,  258 
Rochambeau,  449 
Rochester,  Adams  at,  57;  the  mills 

of,  237 

Rock  Pinon,  411 
Rockville,  Headquarters  at,  175 
Rodman,  Mr.,  456 
Rogier,  382 
Rome,  N.  Y.,  237 
Romero,   Minister,  409,   412,   415, 

419,  436 

Romero  y  Vargas,  Governor,  417 
Root,  Elihu,  466 
Rosecrans,  General,  212,  243 
Roumain,  General,  321 
Rowland,  Captain,  349 
Rubio  factories,  The,  407 
Ruggles,  54 
Rush,  Richard,  359 
Russell,  Earl,  382 
Russia,     explanation     from,     150; 

friendship    of,    218;    two    fleets 

from,  218;  representative  of,  237; 

Alaska  sold  by,  361,  463 
Russian  Fur  Company,  The,  360 

Sabine  Pass,  243 
Sackett,  William  A.,  72 


Sacrificial  stone,  Aztec,  410 

St.  Cyr  Cadets,  The,  171 

St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  37 

St.  Helena,  471 

St.  John's,  368 

St.  John's  Church  in  Washington, 

147 

St.  John,  West  Indies,  304 

St.  Nicholas  Mole,  327 

St.  Paul,  Minn.,  Seward  at,  359 

St.  Petersburg,  Legation  at,  218 

St.  Thomas,  landing  at,  283; 
splendour  of,  284;  houses  at,  286; 
churches,  287;  General  Santa 
Anna,  290;  legends  of,  293;  the 
coffee-tree,  295;  commercial  char- 
acter, 297;  history  of,  298;  pro- 
posal to  purchase,  346,  368;  port 
of,  438 

Salamanca,  406 

Samana,  port  of,  327;  bay  of,  350 

Samoa,  Story  of,  437 

San  Augustin,  399 

San  Domingo,  Spain  seizes,  149; 
coast  of,  279;  coffee  from,  306; 
arrival  at,  307;  architecture  of, 
309;  President  Baez,  309;  recogni- 
tion of,  310;  grave  of  Columbus, 
311;  laziness  at,  314;  church  of, 
330;  a  diplomatic  visit  to,  344; 
offers  to  join  U.  S.,  356;  treaty 
with,  356;  monarchy  of,  414 

Sandwich  Islands,  King  of,  81 

San  Fernando,  Graves  at,  41 1 

Sanford,  Mr.,  at  Paris,  178 

San  Francisco,  Russian  fleet  at,  218; 
Seward  at,  383 

Sangamon,  The,  235 

San  Jos6,  Festival  of,  396 

San  Juan,  415 

San  Juan  de  los  Lagos,  404 

San  Juan  del  Rio,  408 

San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  419 

San  Marcos,  Hacienda  of,  395 

San  Miguel  de  Belan,  Hospital  of, 
400 

San  Pedro,  404 

San  Salvador,  Island  of,  275,  302 

Santa  Ana  Acatlan,  399 

Santa  Anna,  General,  290 

Santa  Clara,  Convent  of,  311 

Santa  Cruz,  voyage  to,  272; 
arrival  at,  302;  harvests  of,  303; 
Danes  of,  304;  industry  at,  305; 
port  of,  439 

Sant'  Anita,  399 

Savannah,  Capture  of,  250 


Index 


485 


Sayula,  Town  of,  398 
Schenck,  Robert  C.,  71 
Schenectady,     N.     Y.,     34,     237; 

College  of,  447 
Schermerhorn,  A.  M.,  72 
Schleiden,  Mr.,  228,  236,  419 
Schoolcraft,  John  L.,  72 
School  district  libraries,  27 
School  system,  The,  27 
Schuyler  mansion,  430 
Scott,  General,  25,  72,  90,  134,  157, 

165 

Sebastopol,  300 
Secession,   The  ordinance  of,   150, 

154 

Seigneurs,  The,  126 

Selfridge,  Lieutenant,  200 

Seneca  Falls,  9,  237 

Seneca  Lake,  237 

Serrano,  General,  310 

Seven  Days'  Battles,  The,  204 

Seventh  of  March  speech,  The,  76 

Seventh  Regiment,  The,  451 

Sewall's  Point,  197 

Seward,  Fanny,  204,  258 

Seward,  Frederick  W.,  first  recol- 
lections, I ;  journey  to  Albany,  2 ; 
a  carriage  journey,  8;  Southern 
hospitality,  12;  first  visit  to 
Washington,  17;  visit  to  the 
President,  18;  the  panic  of  1837, 
21 ;  visit  by  Clay,  22;  New  Year's 
at  Albany,  28;  school  in  Albany, 
31;  early  railroad  experiences,  34; 
early  theatrical  memories,  36; 
the  Morus  multicaulis,  42;  the 
Harrison  campaign,  44;  theHeld- 
erberg  War,  48 ;  an  artistic  contest, 
53;  father's  portrait,  56;  entering 
college,  58;  leaving  college,  66;  in 
Washington,  68;  secretary  to 
father,  68 ;  admitted  to  the  Bar,  84 ; 
in  journalism,  84;  editorials  by, 
89;  a  new  word,  91 ;  Thanksgiving, 
92;  life  in  Albany,  95;  the  Hun- 
garian Liberty  Ass'n.,  99;  a 
voyage,  116;  the  Baltimore  plot, 
134;  meets  Robert  Lincoln,  135; 
meets  Abraham  Lincoln,  136; 
Assistant  Secretary  of  State,  139; 
a  month  of  suspense,  145;  a 
bearer  of  messages,  147;  the  call 
to  arms,  150;  a  college  classmate, 
161;  St.  Cyr  Cadets,  171;  under 
fire,  173;  visit  from  Ministers, 
179;  after  Bull  Run,  181;  receives 
Prince  Napoleon,  182;  at  Brazil- 


ian Legation,  184;  Trollope  at 
dinner  with,  190;  a  cruise,  194; 
at  Fort  Huger,  201;  a  season  of 
reverses,  204;  the  military  situa- 
tion, 212;  foreign  relations,  213; 
a  Moorish  episode,  219;  letter  to 
Morocco,  226;  the  Emancipation 
Proclamation,  227;  a  visit  to  the 
army,  228;  an  excursion  with 
diplomats,  236;  changing  generals, 
238;  aspects  of  the  war,  242;  at 
Fort  Stevens,  248;  the  year's 
record,  249;  end  of  the  war,  251; 
message  from  Lincoln,  254; 
assassination  night,  258;  attempt 
on  life,  259;  after  the  assassina- 
tion, 262;  cruise  to  West  Indies, 
263;  a  stormy  voyage,  270;  at 
tropic  of  Cancer,  275 ;  St.  Thomas, 
283;  dinner  with  the  Governor, 
292;  at  Santa  Cruz,  302;  at  San 
Domingo,  306;  at  Hayti,  315; 
at  Havana,  327;  dines  with  the 
Captain-General,  339;  homeward 
bound,  342 ;  at  Washington,  343 ;  a 
diplomatic  visit  to  San  Domingo, 
344;  a  stormy  voyage,  348;  re- 
ports progress,  355;  story  of 
Alaska,  356;  purchase  of  Alaska, 
360;  Se ward's  diary,  365;  Orien- 
tal indemnity,  368;  envoys  from 
China,  377;  the  portrait  gallery, 
382;  visit  to  Alaska,  383;  Napo- 
leon III.,  420;  a  talk  with  de 
1'Huys,  420;  retires  to  the  coun- 
try, 429;  writes  father's  memoirs, 
429;  legislative  life,  429;  again 
Assistant  Secretary,  433;  in- 
terview with  Stephens,  434;  the 
story  of  Samoa,  437;  a  Pittsburg 
mob,  441;  country  life,  447;  the 
Yorktown  Centennial,  450;  taxa- 
tion in  New  York,  453;  visit  to 
Alaska,  455 ;  letter  to  Tribune,  464 

Seward,  Grandfather,  18 

Seward,  Col.  John,  19 

Seward,  Mrs.,  456 

Seward  Street,  461 

Seward,  William  H.,  Governor,  24; 
portraits  of,  54;  at  Union  College, 
58;  Senator,  71;  speech  on 
slavery,  77;  the  slaveholders' 
dream,  80;  defends  Van  Zandt, 
113;  voyage  to  Anticosti,  120; 
visit  to  Europe,  128;  an  abolition- 
ist, 131;  sees  the  Emperor,  132; 
appointed  Secretary  of  State, 


486 


Index 


Seward,  William  H. — Continued 
142;  presented  with  a  cane,  145; 
takes  charge  of  foreign  affairs, 
147;  suggestions  for  Lincoln,  149; 
prepares  blockade,  160;  visits 
camps,  167;  receives  French  and 
English  Ministers,  180;  circular 
dispatch,  181,  193;  visit  of  Prince 
Napoleon,  182;  the  Trent  case, 
187 ;  praise  for,  191 ;  inspects  fleets, 
195;  letter  to  daughter,  204; 
Conference  of  Governors,  205; 
a  conference  at  home,  207;  dinner 
to  Russians,  218;  New  Year's 
Day,  227;  visits  troops,  228; 
visits  Suffolk,  233 ;  the  diplomatic 
corps,  236;  at  Fort  Stevens,  248; 
Confederate  deserters,  251;  a 
carriage  accident,  251;  last  meet- 
ing with  Lincoln,  253;  attempt  to 
kill,  259;  sentinels  on  guard,  261; 
trip  to  West  Indies,  263;  the 
"Bulldog"  affair,  270;  welcome 
at  St.  Thomas,  292;  interest  in 
West  Indies,  304;  visits  President 
Baez,  310;  visits  President  Gef- 
frard,  321;  saluted  at  Hayti,  323; 
at  Havana,  332;  speech  at  St. 
Paul,  359;  purchase  of  Alaska, 
363;  diary  of,  365;  memoirs  of, 
367;  commissioners  from  Japan, 
374;  visit  to  China,  380;  Great 
Tyee  "  in  Alaska,  383;  retires 
from  office,  383 ;  invited  to  Mexico, 
390;  welcome  in  Mexico,  398; 
a  ball  in  honour  of,  401 ;  dinner  in 
honour  of,  413;  departure  from 
Mexico,  415;  speech  at  Cholula, 
417;  at  Vera  Cruz,  419;  letter 
to  Juarez,  419;  visit  to  Cuba, 
420;  visits  Paris,  420;  death  of, 
429 

Seward,  William  H.,  Jr.,  244,  247 

"Seward's  Folly,"  363 

Seward' s  Works,  172 

Shadrach,  Case  of,  107 

Shakers,  The,  277 

Shakespeare,  William,  26,  66,  271 

Sharon  Springs,  237 

Sharpsburg,  Armies  at,  208,  21 1 

Shelikoff,  Governor,  358 

Shenandoah  Valley,  The,   1 1,  243, 
250 

Sheridan,  General,  250 

Sherman,  General,  168;  advance  of, 
250;  telegram  to,  260 

Sherwood  stages,  The,  35 


Shields,  General,  194 

Shields,  Senator,  80 

"Shinplasters,"  21 

Shreveport,  March  on,  243 

Siberia,  Explorations  in,  357 

Sibley,  Henry  K.,  72 

Sickles,  General,  231,  238 

Sidi  Mohammed  Bargash,  220 

Sierra  Madre,  The,  394 

Silkworms,  42 

"Silver  Spring,"  245 

Simonton,  James  W.,  99 

Sims,  Thomas,  Case  of,  107, 445 

Sing  Sing  prison,  41 

Sitka,  castle  at,  358;  commissioners 
at,  364,  383,  457 

Sixth  Corps,  The,  248 

Skagway,  461 

Skinners,  The  marauders,  5 

Slaveholders'  Dream,  The,  80 

Slavery,  J.  Q.  Adams  on,  57;  re- 
striction of,  74;  discussions  on,  91; 
captures,  106;  dividing  line  in, 
112;  the  issues  of,  149;  speech  on, 

413 

Smallwood,  Joseph,  264,  273 

Smith,  Capture  of  William,  107 

Smith,  Capt.  John,  201 

Smith,  E.  Peshine,  85,  91 

Smith,  Gerrit,  108 

Smith,  Somers,  350 

Smith,  Truman,  80 

Smithsonian,  The,  69 

Smugglers  at  St.  Thomas,  299 

Snyder,  Major,  247 

Softs,  The,  90 

Soldiers,  Wounded,  248 

Soule,  Pierre,  70 

South   Carolina,    Nullification   by, 

141 

South  College,  60 
Southern  Cross,  The,  278,  315 
Southern  Press,  The,  102 
South  Mountain,  Victory  at,  212, 

243 

South  Pearl  Street,  24 
Spain,  treaty  with,   141;    note  to, 

150;  jealousy  of,  213;  war  with, 

356 

Spanish-American  revolutions,  352 
Spanish  discoverers,  301 
Spanish  Main,  The,  279 
Spaulding,  Elbridge  G.,  72 
Speed,  Attorney-General,  254 
Spencer,  Ambrose,  25,  37 
Spencer,  John  C.,  25 
Spinner,  Francis  E.,  431 


Index 


487 


Spokane,  Steamer,  455 
Spottsylvania,  Battle  of,  250 
Stanley,  Edward,  71 
Stanton,  Frederick  P.,  71 
Stanton,  Secretary,   166,  207,  238, 

243,  255.  260 
State   Department,  The  old,    139; 

new  building  of,  141 
State  governments,  Restoring,  256 
State  prison  at  Auburn,  57 
State  Street,  Albany,  34 
Staunton,  Va.,  16 
Stephens,  Alexander  H.,  71,  432 
Steuben,  Baron,  449,  452 
Stevens,  John  A.,  450 
Stevens,  Thaddeus,  71,  84, 345 
Stewart,  Lispenard,  450 
Stoeckl,  Mr.,  236,  360 
Stone,  Colonel,  134,  166 
Stonewall,  The,  374 
Stowe,  Harriet  Beecher,  114 
Strakosch,  97 
Strasburg,  Retreat  to,  194 
Stratton,  Colonel,  203 
Suffolk,  Post  at,  233 
Sumner,  General,  168 
Sumner,  George,  96 
Sumner,  Lieutenant,  268 
Sumner,  Senator,  139,  362,  373 
Sumter,  The  cruiser,  220,  222 
Sun  Chia  Ku,  376 
Sun,  The  N.  Y.,  89 
Susquehanna,  The,  198,  200 
Sweden,  sympathy  of,  217;  minister 

from,  237;  Queen  of,  447 
Swedish  Legation,  447 
Swiss  Bellringers,  The,  96 
Switzerland,  Anxiety  in,  217 
Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  35,  237 

Taber,  Azor,  52 

Tacher,  Colonel,  120 

Tacon  Theatre,  The,  331,  340 

Tacubaya,  411,  414 

Taft,  Lieut.-Col.,  244 

Taku  Glacier,  460 

Talleyrand,  Treaty  with,  140 

Tangier,  City  of,  219 

Tarleton,  Colonel,  6 

Tarle ton's  Dragoons,  5 

Tassara,  Sefior,  150,  236 

Taxation  in  New  York,  453 

Taylor,  President,  69,  72,  82 

Techaluta,  398,  400 

Tehuacan,  415 

Telegram,  Origin  of  the  word,  91 

Telegraph,  Intercontinental,  218 


Tempest,  The,  270 
Ten  Eyck,  John,  85 
Ten  Eyck,  Philip,  85 
Ten  Eyck,  Visscher,  85 
Tennallytown,  fortifications  at,  175; 

road  to,  247 

Tennessee,  Regaining,  193 
Tepeaca,  City  of,  417 
Tepetitlan,  398 
Territories,  The  new,  73 
Texas,    debt    of,    74;     script,    83; 

boundary  bill,  83;  annexation  of, 

141 

Tezcoco,  Lake,  411 
Thayer,  Mrs.  G.  W.,  456 
Thayer,  Rufus  H.,  456 
Thayer,  Samuel  R.,  456 
Theatre,  Memories  of  the,  36 
Thirteen,  Committee  of,  79 
Thlinket  Indians,  458 
Thomas,  General,  Victory,  of,  193 
Thompson,  Jacob,  71 
Thornton,  Sir  Edward,  440 
Thouvenel,  178,  382 
Tilden,  Governor,  430,  433 
Times,  the  N.  Y.,  Founding  of,  89 
Tio  Joaquin,  407 
Tippecanoe  and  Tyler,  44 
Titus,  Great-grandmother  Paulina, 

4,6 

Tlascala,  City  of,  416 
Todos  Santos,  Festival  of,  405 
Tom  Cringle's  Log,  36 
Tompkins,  Governor,  24,  40,  469 
Tonila,  Mexico,  395 
Toombs,  Robert,  71 
Tortuga,  Island  of,  294 
Tower  of  London,  26 
Tracy,  Uncle,  2 

Treasury  Building,  the  new,  140 
Tredwell  mine,  The,  460 
Trent  Affair,  The,  186,  215,  468 
Trenton  Falls,  237 
Trescott,  Secretary,  142,  435 
Tribune,  Letter  to  the,  464,  466 
Tribune,  The  N.  Y.,  45,  88 
Trollope,  Anthony,  190 
Troops,   the  call  for,    152;  raising 

new,  207 

Troy  City  Guards,  51 
Tucker,  Mr.,  197 
Tung  Chi,  382 

Tunstall,  U.  S.  Consul,  220,  226 
Turner,  George,  466 
Tuscarora,  The,  223 
Tweed  Ring,  The,  89 
Two  Years  Before  the  Mast,  27 


488 


Index 


Tycoon  of  Japan,  The,  382 
Tyler,  President,  141 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,  ill,  114,  412 

Underground  Railroad,  The,  109 

Underwood,  Henry,  26 

Union  army  in  the  West,  The,  193 

Union  College,  59, 161, 448 

Union  Guards,  The,  51 

United  States,  The,  197 

Upham,  Senator,  80 

Ursula,  Saint,  302 

Utah,  Territory  of,  79 

Utica,  N.  Y.,  Railroad  at,  35,  237 

Utrecht,  The  Treaty  of,  215 

Valenciano  mine,  The,  406 

Van  Allen,  York,  39 

Van  Buren,  John,  49 

Van  Buren,  President,  21,  69 

Vandalia,  The,  451 

Vanderbilt,  Cornelius,  450 

Vanderbilt,  The,  197 

Vanity  Fair,  quoted,  205 

Van       Rensselaer,       family,      48; 

General,  48;  Stephen,  49;  Court- 

landt,  49 

Van  Rensselaer  Guards,  51 
Van  Rensselaer  mansion,  430 
Van  Schleinitz,  382 
Van  Trompe,  John,  115 
Van  Valkenburg,  Congressman,  208 
Van  Valkenburg,  General,  371,  375 
Van  Zandt,  John,  1 1 1 
Varnum,  General  Jas.  B.,  450 
Vega,  General,  395 
Venice,  Liberation  of,  90 
Venta  de  los  Pajaros,  404 
Vera  Cruz,  294,  414,  419 
Verplanck,  Gulian  C.,  27 
Vicksburg,   siege  of,   212;    fall  of, 

216;  battle  of,  242 
Victor  Emmanuel,  90 
Victoria,  B.  C.,  383 
Victoria  Hotel,  Nassau,  354 
Victoria,  Queen,  80,  440 
Viel6,  General,  197,  234 
Ville  de  Malaga,  The,  222 
Vinton,  Samuel  P.,  71 
Virginia  Controversy,  27 
Virginia,  valley  of,  n ;  travel  in,  12; 

mother  of  Presidents,  13;  slavery 

in,  13;  secession  of,  146,  150,  154 
Virgin  Islands,  The,  302 
Virgin  Mary,  The,  411 
Vlangally,  Minister,  380 
von  Schlozer,  Dr.,  440 


Wachusett,  The,  200 

Walewski,  Minister,  129,  424 

Walker,  Captain  William  M.,  268, 
340 

Walker,  Consul,  297 

Walker,  Robert  J.,  367 

Wallace,  General,  244,  246 

"  Walrussia,"  363 

Wan  Siang,  375,  380 

War  of  1812,  The,  191 

War,  The  ending  of  the,  252 

Ward,  Death  of,  266 

Washburne,  E.  B.,  138 

Washington,  visit  to,  17;  plan  of, 
140;  plans  to  attack,  154;  siege 
of,  155;  defence  of,  158;  menaced 
from  Frederick,  206;  Early 's  raid, 
243;  attack  on,  244;  prepara- 
tions for  attack,  247;  fortifica- 
tions at,  248;  relief  of,  249;  re- 
joicing in,  253 

Washington,  George,  8;  early  cam- 
paigns, of,  II ;  Colonel  Seward 
under,  19;  Life  by  Irving,  20; 
home  of,  185;  bust  of  in  Hayti, 
322;  guns  used  by,  449 

Washington  Market,  288 

Washington  Navy  Yard,  375 

Washington's  Bible,  104 

Washington's  Birthday,  138 

"Washington's  Chamber,"  16 

Washington's  Headquarters,  232 

Webster,  Daniel,  25,  47,  70,  76,  79, 
141 

Webster's  Dictionary,  34 

Webster,  E.  D.,  192 

Weed,  Thurlow,  26,  27,  84,  448 

Weed,  Uncle,  2 

Welles,  Secretary,  195,  254 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  359 

Wells  College,  304 

Wells,  Mr.,  304 

Wentworth,  John,  72 

West  College,  6 1 

Westerlo  Street,  23 

Western  international  law,  378 

West  Indies,  A  cruise  to  the,  265 

West  Point,  graduates  of,  168;  gun- 
boats at,  196,  451 

Weyer's  Cave,  16 

Wheaton,  Henry  G.,  52 

Wheaton's  International  Law,  379 

Wheeler,  Congressman,  208 

Whelan,  Dr.  and  Mrs.,  195 

Whigs,  Collapse  of  the,  90 

White  Pass  Railroad,  461,  462 

White  Plains,  Battle  of,  19 


Index 


489 


Whittier,  John  G.,  114 
Wilberforce,  Portrait  of,  322 
Wilderness,  Battle  of  the,  244;  Lee 

at,  250 

Wilkes,  Captain,  193 
Wilkesbarre,  Pa.,  107 
Willard's  Hotel,  Lincoln  at,  139 
William,  Head-waiter,  24 
Williamsport,  II 
Wilmot,  David,  71 
Winchester,  Retreat  from,  194 
Windward  Islands,  The,  299,  325 
Winne,  Giles,  85 
Winne,  Jacob,  85 
Winslow,  Captain,  250 
Winthrop,  Robert  C.,  71 
Wise,  Rabbi,  99 


"Woman  in  White,"  The,  411,  413 
Wool,  General,  200 
Wormley's  Hotel,  372 
Worth  Monument,  The,  451 
Wrangel,  Fort,  365,  456 

Yates,  Governor,  24 
Yeddo,  Japan,  372 
York  River,  195,  196,  233 
Yorktown,  earthworks  at,  196,  197, 

232;  centennial  of,  447,  449 
Yukon  River,  The,  364, 456,  463 

Zacoalco,  398 
Zapotlan,  Town  of,  396 
Zapotlanejo,  Church  at,  404 
Zaragoza,  Victory  of,  416 


Secret  Diplomatic 
Memoirs 

By 
Count  Hayashi 

Late  Ambassador  to  Great  Britain ;  Foreign   Minis- 
ter and  Minister  of  Commerce  and  Agriculture 
at  the  Court  of  Japan 

8°.    $250 

In  this  volume  the  veteran  Japanese  diplomat 
traces  some  of  the  great  consummations  of 
recent  Japanese  diplomacy.  The  author,  as  the 
Ambassador  from  the  Mikado's  Empire  to  the 
Court  of  St.  James's,  had  a  large  measure  of 
responsibility  for  the  shaping  of  the  Anglo- 
Japanese  alliance.  His  verbatim  account  of 
the  diplomatic  play  of  forces  gives  a  very  clear 
impression  of  the  conduct  of  this  important 
affair  of  state. 

Of  especial  interest  to  American  readers  are 
also  the  chapters  in  which  the  author  discusses 
the  Americo- Japanese  Convention  of  1909,  and 
reviews  the  foreign  policy  of  Japan. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Memories  of  a 
Publisher 

By 
George  Haven  Putnam,  Litt.D. 

Author  of  "  Memories  of  My   Youth,"     "  Books   and 

Their  Makers  in  the  Middle  Ages,"  ''  Abraham 

Lincoln/'  etc. 

5°.     With  Portrait.     Price,  $2.00 

In  this  volume,  the  author  continues  his 
personal  reminiscences  from  1865,  the  date  to 
which  had  been  brought  the  narrative  in  his 
earlier  book  "  Memories  of  My  Youth.  " 

The  book  contains  also  some  record  of  the 
undertakings  of  the  Putnam  Publishing  House 
from  1872,  the  year  of  the  death  of  its  founder. 
The  "  Memoir  of  G.  P.  Putnam, "  published  in 
1912,  had  presented  an  account  of  the  publishing 
firm  from  the  year  of  its  organization. 

The  author  records  what  he  can  remember 
of  the  people  with  whom  he  has  had  personal 
relations  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  during  the 
fifty  years  since  1865,  and  he  gives  also  his  own 
views  in  regard  to  certain  questions  of  the  day 
in  which,  as  a  citizen,  he  has  taken  his  part, 
such  as  Free  Trade,  Honest  Money,  Civil  Service 
Reform,  Copyright  International  and  Domestic, 
and  matters  connected  with  municipal,  state,  and 
national  politics. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


My  Path  Through  Life 

By  Lilli  Lehmann 

Translated  from  the  German  by 
Alice  Benedict  Seligman 

8°.    About  500  pp.     With  50  Illustrations 
$5. SO  net 

Mme.  Lehmann  gives  us  a  volume  of  memoirs, 
musical  and  personal,  which  will  command  the 
attention  of  the  world-wide  public  which  this 
great  singer  has  charmed.  The  book  is  written 
with  her  characteristic  sincerity  and  frankness. 
She  unfolds  the  complete  story  of  her  life,  de- 
voting a  generous  measure  of  attention  to  her 
friends  and  rivals  upon  the  operatic  stage. 

Her  achievements  in  Prague,  Leipsic,  Vienna, 
and  elsewhere,  her  struggles  in  Berlin,  her  ex- 
tended tours  in  Europe  and  America,  are  fasci- 
natingly told.  She  presents  an  account  of  her 
collaborations  with  Wagner  at  Bayreuth,  and 
tells  of  her  experiences  at  Court. 

The  pleasant  as  well  as  the  arduous  aspects  of 
the  artist's  career  are  presented  with  a  wealth 
of  anecdote. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Memoirs  of  a  Prima 
Donna 

By  Clara  Louise  Kellogg 

(Mme.  Strakosch) 

<5°.  With  48  Illustrations.    $2.5O  net 
Postage  Extra 

Clara  Louise  Kellogg,  who  is  now  Clara  Louise  Stra- 
kosch, was  the  first  American  prima  donna  to  win  re- 
cognition abroad.  After  making  her  de"but  in  opera  at 
the  Academy  of  Music,  in  New  York,  in  1 86 1 ,  she  appeared 
in  opera  in  London  and  later  in  Berlin,  Vienna,  and  Saint 
Petersburg.  In  every  country  she  was  received  with 
acclaim  and  returned  to  her  native  land  covered  with 
honors  showered  upon  her  by  the  best  audiences  that 
the  old  world  affords. 

Miss  Kellogg  created  the  r61e  of  Marguerite  in  Gounod's 
Faust  in  this  country,  and  of  Mignon  in  Ambroise 
Thomas's  opera  of  that  name.  After  winning  laurels 
in  Italian  opera  she  organized  an  English  opera  company 
of  her  own,  which  sang  for  several  seasons  in  New  York 
and  the  principal  cities  of  the  United  States.  While  at 
the  head  of  her  own  company  she  produced  Wagner's 
Flying  Dutchman  for  the  first  time  in  America,  creating 
the  role  of  Senta,  and  she  was  the  first  prima  donna  to 
sing  A'ida  and  Carmen  in  English.  Miss  Kellogg  was 
famous  not  only  for  the  beautiful  quality  of  her  voice  but 
for  her  marvelous  musical  ear.  It  is  said  that  there  were 
over  forty  operas  that  she  could  sing  on  twenty-four 
hours'  notice,  and  that  never  once  in  the  course  of  her 
operatic  career  had  she  been  known  to  sing  a  fraction  of 
a  tone  off  the  key. 

These  Memoirs  are  filled  with  anecdotes  of  the  interest- 
ing people  whom  she  met,  on  and  off  the  stage,  and  con- 
tain a  fund  of  information  about  voice  culture  and  the 
study  of  music  that  no  one  interested  in  the  subject  can 
read  without  profit. 

New  York    G.   P.   Putnam's   Sons     London 


